SleepingSilence

RPGC #19: Beware The Metal Age - Prompt and Entries

Oh no, Dr.Eggman finally got his wish.

I have been considering making a futuristic short story based on a song. Just because it's an image that popped in my head. So maybe I'll stir something up?

*I'll just edit this with my prompt when I make it*

Character Creation Competition #1 - Voting and Critique

I've come and gone from this thread a few times, looking at the character sheets and trying to come up with enough to say to have any worthy critique or comments about the sheets in question.

When it comes to the writing (vocabulary/quality) and the structure. Both of them seem pretty equal. I can imagine both of these character sheets just being a standard/typical submission in a casual pirate role play. But since there is no roleplay attached to the character sheet, which theoretically would grant you the ability to add as much detail and description and background as possible. I feel like they're both a little underdeveloped in my opinion. But that's pretty much all I have to say.

Suggestion for improvement:

Callie: The skills being a grocery list could be expanded upon and given more detail to make them feel more like a character. It's also completely subjective but not fond of the name either. (I guess the nickname is silly enough that it fits a more light hearted affair.)

LaserSquid112: The proficiency chart isn't defined. So it's meaningless without context. I do not know what the lines mean. I wouldn't know if no lines mean they couldn't use the weapon/do said task. I don't know if one line means poor and two lines mean average since it's a three line basis. I would have suggested to change it into words or description instead.

My Winner & Why: LaserSquid112's sheet had more personality and character, in the character sheet. The vulgarity, shouting and the occasional musing brought some life into the description. So he has my vote.

I Wanna Hear Your Opinions On The Different Wrting Levels/Forums.

@HaleyTheRandom Apart from the reactionary comments, I think everything was fine. Just happened to go in a slightly different direction from the intended question of the thread.

Word association Game!

Lights

Where is your "writing sanctuary"?

Ironically most of my creative process seems to flow when I'm away from the keyboard. Exercising/on my walks. Music sometimes inspires me to write something as well. But I don't really think I couldn't write any better at my parents house vs my own apartment, long as a computer is in my hands. Some animal or person will likely be along to distract me anyway.

I Wanna Hear Your Opinions On The Different Wrting Levels/Forums.

@tex Answering the comments related to yellow. (I'll get to the specific post critique last.)

This may be a little off topic, but considering how this is a thread that compares and contrasts the different sections, it seems to be something that doesn't draw away from the spirit of the conversation. There isn't really much of a conversation being had in this thread yet when you think about it, though. Just a lot of somewhat agreeable opinions.

I'd preface this with the fact that nobody is immune to making grammatical mistakes, but this isn't the only issue you'll find when looking at the sections on RPG. My concern, or topic of discussion rather, has more to do with standards in relation to Advanced and Casual. Although it's pretty clear that the two sections differ only slightly, and standards will differ further between GM's, I'm curious to know exactly what people expect in an Advanced RP.

If I were going into something titled 'advanced' for example, I would expect not only legible writing, and zero spelling errors, but near-perfect grammar, and healthy writing habits. I'll use @SleepingSilence's advanced examples to point out a few things that would immediately trigger me, and likely have me bail in a matter of days if they were repeated constantly. If these were in fact posts written by you, I mean no offense.

Meow

1. Pointless semicolon, almost immediately.
2. Sentence fragments galore.
3. Present tense done poorly, and immediately followed by past tense a paragraph later. Subjective perhaps? I'd argue otherwise.
4. Subject confusion.
5. Fluff.

1. Another pointless semi colon.
2. Vague metaphor, immediately made redundant by the sentence that follows.
3. Tense confusion.
4. Redundant metaphor.
5. Why do people use ellipsis so often.

1. At this point, there have been two paragraph breaks for the sake of exposition, but there hasn't actually been any... Scene change.
2. leaving a faint chill. Grammar.
3. 'Being' nature's forecast of rain? Maybe 'for' rain? 'is' or 'was' nature's forecast? Grammar.
4. Thoughts are already internal. Redundant word usage.
5. Passive voice.

And that's less than 10% of the post in question. Perhaps something later in the post would justify the aforementioned, but it's difficult for me to trudge through writing like this. Although I haven't read all of the advanced RPs on the forum, I can safely say that almost every one that I have tried to read suffers from a similar amount of grammatical or syntactical errors on a post-by-post basis. The shorter Advanced RPs are the only exception to this, it would seem. What's strange is that I don't see nearly as many errors in casual, despite the fact that some people perceive a difference in skill between the two sections [Advanced>Casual].

So, I'm quite curious to know what everyone's standards are for their partner's writing in Advanced and Casual, specifically. Is it fine as long as it's legible and easy enough to understand? Or are there particular errors that bug you to no end? Where would you draw the line? Does this differ between Casual and advanced? Should it differ between casual and advanced?

I think it's more interesting to get a detailed first person series of ideas in regards to their expectations rather than their perception of an entire section based on experience.

@tex

Well it wasn't a post about discussion, merely on opinions of the threads in question. I certainly tried to bring up points for those who desired such, so I certainly don't mind partaking in it.

You are correct. Errors, inconsistencies or just things that can't actually be directly pointed out and instead seem bizarre or clunky. You made some in this very post actually. And if I was my detractors, I can assure you that would be my focus on pointing them out instead of addressing anything you said or meeting you halfway.

I also agree that most advanced roleplays suffer from things like this. I've been attacked numerous times for claiming such too. I'd argued far worse and less interesting writing on a regular basis. But that's mainly because a lot of it, isn't novel worthy. It's a first draft writing in every regard, there is no professional editor.

I feel the statement that you'd abandon a roleplay for minor writing errors is one of many problems this site has. There is no sense of community. No one is helping others improve writing. When you join a roleplay and notice writing errors, you don't need to ignore them but there's nothing stopping you from trying to help someone else, so they can improve. It's very petty, and it's that attitude that people avoid advanced sections in the first place.

I also wholly disagree that these problems don't persist in casual, they do. As for personal writing pet peeves or various things people do that can disturb you and distract your ability to write...that feels like it should be in a separate post.

Here's the best way you can actually offer advice to someone's writing and not come off as a personal attack. Suggest how it can be improved, with your own direct examples. (Which for the record, I'll take this as best as I can, and appreciate the time afforded to point out some errors.)

My response

1. Chalked up to a style choice. But I assume you'd suggest to use a period instead? But doesn't the semicolon's use show a direct connection that a comma wouldn't?
2. Yes, I have a personal issue with sentence fragments. Again, no suggestion is offered. It's also ironically kind of a sentence fragment.
3. Style choice.
4. Not specified
5. Not an error

1. I agree that a period would have worked better. Will probably fix, since I care as a writer to improve. I just need people who are genuine in criticism and not vague and snobby about it. (Not referring to you.) Though can't say it's not vague.
2. Disagree that it's redundant, perhaps arguably overly constructed.
3. Not specified (Meaning no idea what's being critiqued here. Which isn't a good thing. Being vague about what you are critiquing makes the critique poor and frustrating in it's own right.)
4. Disagree/Style Choice
5. Not an error

1. Disagree with conclusion
2. Correct. Will fix.
3. I don't think being is an incorrect word choice for what I was doing there. Was can also work...
4. Elaborate? Are you suggesting I don't need the last line because it's clear that these are the main characters thoughts? If you can understand this, you wouldn't have pointed out how the previous stuff was fluff because you'd understand/think it was from the characters direct perspective.
5. Again advice preferred.

What Are You Listening To?

When you're sick of hearing the electronic artists don't make their own instrumentals, so you literally make your own instrument.

I Wanna Hear Your Opinions On The Different Wrting Levels/Forums.

Well because it's never interesting to just repeat what others say. I'll actually provide some different insight on another role-playing forum I was on before it shut down, and I'll compare it to my findings on these forums. It's beneficial, because I haven't partaken in several of these during my stay, but several mimic the other forum which I did. Figured, added context may be interesting. Because I find all sources of roleplaying valid, just depends what you're looking for.

Free: Everyone's already mentioned what free was meant for. Beginners, or people that just want to jump right into writing and not try that hard detailing background, plot or complexities of character. What they really should be for, is to encourage fast and fluid community engagement. In the previous forum, almost every single thread/roleplay was called a "join in" roleplay. Meaning all one needed to do was look at the rules, write their CS, post it and get straight into the action. The CS was more a formality, get somebody to learn how to write them and made a quick reference to somebodies character. So if newbies were in multiple roleplays, they'd remember which character was in which roleplay. But that's not how it's done here.

So who in free role-playing denies somebody whose interested? Probably nobody for any reason I could understand. So, why does everyone even keep the acceptance process? If somebody causes trouble, the rules are still there and would warn they'd be asked to leave/removed. This were also useful for people with free time to write, but perhaps not enough commitment to another long form roleplay. (Or in my specific case on this forum, free was often the only one that remained consistently active.)

If it wasn't clear, I don't think talent or lack thereof should exclude somebody from at least trying to partake in anything they wish. The less those uncertain are discouraged, the better.

Example Of Free Style, Yes Really.

The thief rummaging through the back of the cart turned around to checking the commotion stirring up, noticing his partner was close to incinerating the horse. "Stop you idiot! We're not here to get an even bigger bounty on our heads!" He jumped off the cart. "Just let her go-we're getting out of here before-"

The spell didn't go off, leaving the horse untouched. The figure that was grabbing Elizabeth didn't even have time to sense the murderous swift charging beastkind that appeared bolting out of the forest and with a inhuman leap into the air, Bastian lunged over Elizabeth avoiding touching her. Grabbing the man's head within his claws sharp grip, tightening with the sound of cracking bone. Claws piercing through flesh and one digging straight through his eye, simultaneously twisting his neck and body slamming into the ground. Bastian's necklace was coated with visible dark aura, eyes shimmering black as they turned toward the other horrified mage. The mage instantly clapped his hand together, saying a quick incantation creating an invisible physical barrier. Bastian ripped his sword out and charged straight at the mage.

"Wait! I surrender-" The mage exclaimed. Bastian's sword piercing and breaking through the barrier in an instance, running the mage's chest completely through until the claw holding the hilt of blade was embedded in the hole blown through his stomach. Pulling the sword out without struggle, mage exploding in blood and collapsing to the ground, both lie dead but Bastian wasn't done yet. His breathing got calming and heart rate started slowing down. Bastian quickly lopped off the mage's head, picking it up and stuffing it in a leather sack and approaching the the other mage and doing the same thing. The necklace fizzled out and his eyes regained their pupils and returned to their original color. Turning his attention to Elizabeth, painted in blood.

"Are you hurt?" Bastian asked with a soft and parental tone.

Casual: Well everyone ends up here and sometimes they stay here, but we'll get to that with the next subject. What else can be said about this place that probably hasn't already been said? It's meant for those who want to roleplay, have roleplayed before and don't have the time to do extensive writing. It's a good balance and it's popular for multiple reasons. Though the differences in activity/consistency can't be so easily fixed here.

To add a tangent that's relevant with my experience. Note it may not represent the collective whole, so if it doesn't apply to you. Skim past this part, it's not made for you. The biggest problem is often not with the players. But the GM's quitting, leaving their players in the dust. Gm's not knowing how to handle a single/a minority of inactive players. (Or kicking them after the fact for petty reasons, or not realizing someone they accepted isn't on par with their standards.)

There's also more GM rule breaking than I've ever seen on any roleplaying site. If you make rules, you actually have to follow them yourself and justify why it's better having so many. (if you do.) Also any Co-GM, actually needs to be on the same page with the lore or understand the game. (They often do not.) It just seems people take the word casual, a little too literally at times and their responsibility to keep in contact with their fellow roleplayers is met with minimal effort.

So please if I can give a little personal advice, only create or join a roleplay, if you can follow through.

Another note, that I will make clearer later, is that I don't think word count is always accurate gauging posts like these. But I'll try to show the difference in word count as well, because that plays a minor factor.

Example Of Casual

Dante "Stalker" Foster

Music

Hearing the subtle dripping coming from the mold growing on the ceiling, the pungent reeking scent of bleach and decay. Dante had shielded his eyes from the evil presence surrounding him, the suffocating aura made his breathing shallow. Dante sauntered through the room, quickly feeling around the entire area with his tail. Wiping his foot off on the nearest solid surface, to remove whatever liquid he had just stepped in, took thick to be water. "Just remaining here makes me remember everything all over again...I can't stand this much longer." Dante thought. Interrupted by his tail colliding with a rounded metallic object. Finally prying his eyes open, his heartbeat suddenly stopped while simultaneously letting out a quick gasp. His tail had in fact been wrapped around a doorknob, but it was merely discarded on a wooden desk. The demon's gaze directly in front of him, reaching its elongated claw out.

"You'll never drag me there!" Dante shouted crushing the object with his strike, shattering the demon into pieces of glass. Taking a moment to catch his breath, regaining composure as quickly as the doorknob that rolled off and clanged to the ground. Wasting no time to meticulously comb over the area, feeling no apprehension about creating noise. Once it appeared that a tornado had blown through, binders and folders with the Bible's thickness, filled with either coded information or pure gibberish. Rusty tools and knives, dismantled guns without any ammunition, everything scattered across the floor. Having nothing in his clenched claws except for layers of dirt and dust. Returning into the narrow hallway, it felt like pressure gripping his throat had been lifted. "All that effort-with absolutely nothing advantageous for my escape. Perhaps, it's my own strategy that requires reevaluation. Instead of operating by myself, maybe I should stop and ask for directions."

It was a surprisingly brief period of time expended involving the opening the giant mechanical door, like it had been unlocked afterward. Casually stepping outside and seeing nobody in the vicinity, barely hearing a whisper. Climbing back on the ceiling and leaving the area behind while humming a tune, scanning the grounds beneath and heading through another seemingly vacant hallway with an equally long perpendicular hallway on both sides, leaving him to scratch his head, feeling like a rat lost in a labyrinth. “Why make an underground building so expansive if you don't even have enough guards to properly fill it? Typical, the stupidest ones always somehow become the ones that garner the money and power.” Dante muttered inaudibly, “I just want someone I can easily intimidate and interrogate.” He grinded his teeth, heading down a direction chosen on a whim, his growing desires starting giving him a headache. He wanted a cigarette, to see his family, down some pills with a fifth of vodka, work on a new album, hearing the pleasured sounds his girlfriend made when he sunk his teeth into her flesh, even fast food sounded appealing...

“I should have jacked that dude's smokes...”

'High-Casual': Behold! A category that shouldn't exist, and one I've probably done the most of. It only exists because the held belief that the Advanced section is too selective and various other negative hearsay. I basically see no actual quality differences between the two categorizes in any meaningful way. The only noticeable thing I see, or at least should see. Is how much of the story is dialogue? Dialogue is a lot easier to write, and makes it naturally progress a story and lengthen a post. People shouldn't need to create High-Casual because of a community assumption that perfectly acceptable writing will still be denied for some bandwagon acceptance, or hear some pretentious and esoteric excuse for their rejection.

Example Of High-Casual

The visible miasma escaped through the window the furled wolf rested under, placing a paw on top of his nose to mitigate the surrounding stench, sunlight blocked by the blanket shielding his eyes. Hearing pacing footsteps, sounds of chopping crunchy vegetables, bubbling water, the crackling of flame. His ears twitched, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. Outside the wooden cabin, surrounded by luscious crops, foliage and towering trees. Soaring through skies slowly suppressed by grey clouds coming from the west, until catching the familiar scent coming from home, diving down to a soft fluffy landing. Abruptly, a cacophonous melody squawked in wolf’s ears.

“Wake up, wake up! Never a better moment to move your lazy bones out of bed. Come outside and enjoy this beautiful afternoon.” The raven proclaimed, perched on top of the wolf’s noggin. The wolf jolted upright from the blankets he slept on, swatting the empty space above of his head, growling at the raven, having already landed on Lydrim’s shoulder. Looking at the all the produce, spices and herbs spread across the table, while Lydrim was casually stirring some clear yellow liquid, with tree roots floating inside, smelling like vegetable stock.

“Dammit Vashti! I was sleeping.” The wolf snapped, the raven didn’t need acknowledge his words or his death glare. Lydrim chuckled and turned around, smiling at the wolf.

“Good morning to you too, Lyros.” Lydrim said. The wolf jumped off the bed, giving him a cold shoulder and walking past.

“I’m not responding to some stupid pet name, I’m nobody's pet.” The wolf muttered while leaning down and gulping down some water put inside a bowl. Lydrim grabbed a minced leafy herb from his counter, taking an observant look before walking over and stuck the plant near Lyros’s nose. Lyros reluctantly sniffed it, giving Lydrim a look of revulsion, turning away and letting out a loud retching sound. Lydrim smiled and let out a hearty laugh.

“Looks like I picked the right one after all.” Lydrim said sprinkling the herb into the bubbling pot, still being watched by Vashti.

“So, what are you making for me? Is this all for me?” Vashti asked. Lydrim chuckled, starting to clean up the counter.

“I’m afraid not, it's for a wealthy customer I’m expecting within the hour-” Lydrim replied, the raven flew off his shoulder and landed back on Lyros’s head.

“Good. I much prefer eating raw meats anyway.” Vashti said cheerfully, sitting down. “Something Lyros and I have in common, isn’t that right buddy?”

“Consider yourself lucky I don’t like my food obnoxious.” Lyros quickly retorted.

“Don’t worry you two, after I’ve served my customer. I’ll serve your dinner.” Lydrim assured. Finished preparing his meal, mixing everything into a single pot, grabbing a bowl to pour the steaming concoction inside the bowl and putting in under a platter. Closing the window to kept the draft from blowing in, cracking the nearest door open. Lyros lazily walked out, with Vashti getting in flight, beating him outside and promptly bragging about it. Lydrim shut the door behind them, picking up a sharp kitchen knife. Glancing at his own smirking reflection hearing simultaneous sounds of methodical knocking upon the front door, gently wiping and setting the knife down. “Speaking of the devil...”

Heading quickly toward and opening the front door, the slender noble dressed in noticeably expensive attire, noticing the ashen colors above coating the entire sky. He stepped inside, Lydrim closed the door behind him.

“Welcome, I just finished preparing your meal. So you won’t need to wait, you can eat and we can get into the business proposal you discussed with me.” Lydrim said watching the noble’s eyes scanning the surrounding room, changing his facial expression several times in a few seconds, before stepping inside from the scent coming from the platter set up on a table. The table had been meticulously set up, a perfectly clean white tablecloth, a silver plate with pleasant aroma of steam, with an array of colorful flowers inside a handcrafted vase and fresh fruit inside a basket used for set pieces that were fairly atypical for a noble. With a nearby standing torch, illuminating the entire area surrounding the table. The noble took a seat, Lydrim walked up beside him and picked up the bottle that was sitting on the table, pulling the cork open. The noble raised his hand in a stopping motion, covered with fingerless white gloves.

“I don’t wish to partake in any ch-wine. Just fetch me some clean and disinfected water, if you have that.” The noble remarked, clearing his throat and taking his gloves off. Lydrim put on a pleasant smile, before he could reply. “I’ll leave my coat on.” The noble added. Lydrim simply nodded and left the noble, heading back into the kitchen. The noble removed the top tray, and instantly scoffed looking at the food’s presentation. Seeing a vegetable medley, some hodgepodge stew and some bread, the noble nearly sat up until smelling the scent coming from the stew, instead only leaning back into his seat and picking up the spoon.

Unbeknownst to the noble, four eyes glared at him from behind. Lyros and Vashti stares from the window, ducking from sight when the noble glanced in their direction. The noble scooped the stew inside the spoon and lightly chewed and swallowed the first spoonful, his inner thought gasping, the experience his taste buds were submerged in, was practically orgasmic. The noble took several more spoonfuls of the stew, taking a bite of the bread to cut down the intense earthy sweetness.

“I cannot deny his cooking ability is above par, though he’s foolish if he thinks I’ll be hiring him into my business. I only came to dispose of the evidence that I know he has...” The noble thought with a smirk.

Lydrim casually walked inside, holding a glass of water. The noble glanced in his direction, giving him an perturbed glare, watching Lydrim raise the glass up to his mouth and chugging the water down and setting the glass with a loud clash on the table. The noble opened his mouth, being instantly greeted with a swift fist swung full force in his face. Lydrim knocking him over on his backside and toppling over the stool, causing the noble to sink his teeth into his tongue and ripping a chunk off.

“How dare!” The noble screamed with blood escaping his lips and leaking down of his nose, suddenly feeling his legs, arm and every muscle in his body constrict and freeze like the largest constrictor was wrapped around his body, suffocating him within its grasp. Lydrim quickly grabbing an apple from the table and shoved it into the noble’s mouth, keeping him silenced.

“‘Sylis-Parthexia’, a rare parasite killing herb that resembles a near identical look and texture to a medicinal herb, often used for stomach pain. But instead of the bitterness, it’s pleasantly sweet. However, instead of ailing someone that ingests it, it releases spores into the bloodstream and causes the brain to induce a chemical that absolutely shuts down all muscle function. Leaving anyone unfortunate enough to eat it, paralyzed. It can be identified by talented herbalists or just from the foul odor that only animals can detect.” Lydrim explained in a calm tone, walking over to the front door and cracking it open. Lyros and Vashti came inside out of the darkness. The noble gave Lydrim an enraged glare, lying motionless on the floor.

“Fortunately for you, it harmlessly passes through the digestive system within a couple hours. Unfortunately for you, the moment you decided to interfere in the communities trade routes and purposely raise taxes until families can no longer pay, making duplicitous deals with young women and make them into your concubines. You get enough people that pay me instead…” Lydrim said approaching the noble and kicking his face, subsequently taking the apple out of his mouth. “To kill you…”

The noble coughed out, spitting out a tooth and more blood that poured from his mouth. “You’ll regret this! My constituents know I’m here, they’ll find-” Interrupted by laughter coming from the wolf, shocking the noble unable to speak.

“I understand what you meant earlier, Lydrim. I guess you do love telling your jokes.” Lyros scoffed, pacing around the noble with Vashti sitting on Lydrim’s raised arm. Lydrim chuckled at the thought and walked up to the torch, gripping the stand. Vashti looked at Lydrim.

“Oh my, can we eat everything? I’m famished.” Vashti squawked. The noble's heart raced, his eyes widened looking at the wolf licking his lips and the raven flying up and landing directly on the noble’s upper chest.

“Dinner is served…” Lydrim said blowing the flame out and the room suddenly went pitch black. Walking away from the noble, gazing upon two pairs of glowing eyes.

“W-wait sto-” The noble stuttered out before letting out guttural scream, feeling his eye being penetrated and pulled out of his socket, abruptly cut silent by the wolf’s fangs sinking deep into his neck. Tuning out the sound of his friends getting their fill. Lydrim let out a yawn, laying on his bed with arms crossed behind his head, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep to have dreams about having rugged facial hair.

* * *

Waking abruptly to some squawking, with a letter literally dropping his lap from above. Vashti perched on the windowsill. Lydrim opened his eyes and sat upright, looking at the letter pleasantly surprised. Curiosity sparkling in his eye though it quickly disappeared when discovering the only thing inside, was just something written on parchment. Lydrim glanced at the letter, reading over it carefully, inaudibly mumbling the words aloud. Putting the letter aside before standing beside his bed, looking at Vashti, giving her a smile.

“Thank you. Lyros washing himself off at the pond again?” He asked getting a nod confirming his assumptions. Stretching his back until hearing a crack, noticing sounds of sprinkling coming from outside. Opening the window and sharply inhaling the scents coming from the outdoors, fresh air filling his lungs. Before exhaling longingly and rubbing the back of his neck. “I suppose it’s time to clean up the mess...” Lydrim started with scrubbing and cleaning his dishes.

“What did the letter say? You didn’t seem too interested.” Vashti said interrupting the silence.

“I’m not. It’s something trying to convince me to use my talents elsewhere. Likely for their own ends. People that send letters like that, are almost always duplicitous.” Lydrim replied looking around. “Oh-yes, the platter.” Lydrim uttered casually strolling into the room, the body was gone and only the blood splattered floors remained, signs of many footprints and the body being dragged toward the front door.

He grabbed the platter without hesitation and headed right back to doing the dishes, disposing of the contents of the stew while thoughts suddenly spilled from his head. Vashti was occupied ruffling her feathers, hearing the sounds of the side door getting scratched at. Lydrim set the platter down, grabbed a towel and let Lyros back inside. Lyros glared as a towel was lightly tossed over him, covering half his head. Lydrim dried him off thoroughly as possible.

“We’re leaving later this afternoon, after I pack my things and do some tidying up. We likely won’t be coming back ” Lydrim stated matter-of-factly before heading off, to scrub the blood off his floors. Lyros turned to Vashti.

“What the hell did I miss?” Lyros asked.

“Being wise doesn’t mean I know everything…” Vashti sheepishly replied before adding. “Just more than you-”

While Lydrim was occupied on his hands and knees, continuously scrubbing, hearing the habitual commotion coming from the other room. “Hey now, don’t ruin my bed!” Lydrim called out, staring the bloody floors being nowhere near clean yet. “In hindsight, I really need to train you both not to eat so messily…”

* * *

They hadn’t traveled in a while, but he had enough foregoing knowledge of routes to avoid being arrested and ideas of strangers arriving was the last thing he needed. Lydrim distracted his past memories through exchanging pleasantries with the horse he rode on. Eventually arriving at the docking stations, with nothing but a large brown sack being carried over his right shoulder. Lyros and Vashti staying beside him, paying no heed to the crowds of strangers leering, as they followed without anyone daring to pry. Getting abroad one of the airships, exchanging a ticket and finding a secluded place to drop his luggage and settle, waiting for takeoff.

Scarcely spotting passengers daring to stay nearby for any extended period, from either of his companions presence, watching themselves ascending up into the skies leaving Tellus behind for the very first time in thirty years. Lydrim held the mysterious letter he received, clenching his fist and exhaling. Approaching his destination, Tenebra, the Continent of Darkness. Anticipating more than just who sent that letter to be waiting inside the Courtyard of the Sages.

* * *

Underwhelmed was the first thing that crossed his mind and ghastly was the first word to escape his companions mouth when disembarking on the airship and going across Tenebra, wasn’t exactly aesthetically pleasing. Until Lydrim laid his eyes upon an ornate metal gate shaped like a dragon covered with thick thorny vines, stone walls and concealed what lied within. Vashti flapped over his shoulder and flew above the courtyard’s walls, peering into depths of obscurity before giving up and perching on Lyros’s head.

“Couldn't make out anything. Seems like you're the first to arrive.” Vashti said.

“Will you stop using my head to perch-” Lyros grumbled before just conceding his ineffectual protest. Lydrim stepped forward, noticing the gate silently opening on its own, before walking inside and viewing the luscious gardens and the giant fountain in the center. Barely passing the entrance, before turning himself around to focus on the gate shutting behind him.

“Try not getting lost, I’ll be waiting for the others to arrive.” Lydrim said giving permissions to Lyros and Vashti to explore the grounds of the Courtyard of the Sages, promptly taking off to observe their surroundings. Sitting down with crossed legs and leaning forward and resting his crossed arms on his sack, Lydrim stayed there, remaining calm, wondering exactly how many were about to come through those gates and questioning exactly what he got himself into...

Advanced:Filled with much pretension and flowery prose, along with strict and overly complicated rulesets and lore that's difficult to parse. Yeah, no. There's plenty of the latter in casual, and their almost none of the former in most things I've read. So what do I think differentiates Advanced and Casual on the forum? Average word count per post. (That's pretty much it.)

Okay, that's not entirely fair or accurate. An extensive vocabulary may be seen here. But not all Advanced Roleplays have that. Some don't even seem to have standards any different than a Free RP, judging from how many suffered from not even running their posts through basic spellcheck. (When I checked it, a while ago and it was scattered research. So this isn't a current observation for anyone in particular.) That's not knocking it as a whole, mind. But you have to wonder, where do all these stereotypes come from?

Yes, Advanced should have a little more extensive vocabulary and longer posts that have added character information and setting detail. It should have some prose writing and not be entirely straightforward. But it also should be encouraged for more people to try, and make people not feel obligated to create "High-Casual", because of what can only be described as a wholly community based problem...

Example Of Advanced Style

Prologue

Music

The radiant glow of her gaze peering from the opened apartment window; a passionate spark that would someday set this world ablaze. Looking out at the landscape dense with skyscrapers, all clamoring for its denizens’ attention. Buildings adorned with a chromatic spectrum of lights from abundant advertisement billboards, surrounding the cavalcades parading through the grungy streets still dampened from yesterday's storm. A mirror universe showing a collage of reflections below people's feet splashing in the puddles. It was easy to get caught up in the beautiful lies and let your mind wander...

These people weren't mere strangers to her. They were blobs of gray mortality, solely concerned for their own well-being. Clustered until their individual presence bleeds into obscurity becoming only noise pollution. How else does one stomach the grotesque daily displays of debauchery? Layers of sin smothered the masses like a thick blanket of darkness that strangled acts of generosity with a vice-like grip. Those who dare preach for compassion would choke from the fragrance of their vomit before any Samaritan could practice it. Night City Downtown Sector A2; otherwise known as The Northside District. A bloodthirsty creature created from their own volition, designed to enrapture its victims while swallowing them whole...

A zephyr blew into the room, leaving a faint chill that sent a shiver down her spine. The dropping temperature being nature's forewarning forecast of rain. Her internal scattered thoughts abruptly halted by words drenched in playful sarcasm.

"You're really sexy when you're philosophizing..."

Turning to address her bare-chested boyfriend sprawled across the bed. His scrawny frame made him look like a skeleton suited in flesh. His bottom-half covered in a pristine white comforter. She sauntered up to the queen-sized mattress, pulling her red shirt off and tossing it beside the overly neat pile of men clothes on the floor. Pressing her right palm against the soft foam, bending over and caressing the left side of his face. Exchanging smiles that pierced their hearts, giving each other looks of unbridled affection.

"And you're obnoxious when you're patronizing me," Madeleine responded pointing at his blackened right eye. "That smart mouth of yours is what gave you that shiner-" her teasing trying to stifle her quivering voice, "...those guys could have killed you."

"Madeleine…" His tone changed to become serious and reassuring. Motioning with his fingers to grab his hands since both were restrained to the bedposts. Resting their palms together, he gently squeezed and held her hand.

"I already told you that I have someone handling it. You'll never see those braying jackasses again. I promise you." She laid down and curled up close, leaning her forehead on his upper-chest feeling his pounding heart. Her arms wrapped around him, listening silently. "My buddy will have everything settled by midnight tomorrow…"

"Why couldn't it be tonight?" She interrupted with a murmur.

"Good things come to those who wait," He replied with a chuckle, "We'll pack up our stuff and finally escape this wretched place. It'll be the new life-with child that you-we always wanted."

The warmth of the bed, his body and candor were equally comforting to her. She smiled looking up at him, but his eyes seemed more distressed from what was behind her. She recalled leaving the window open-did they return to finish the job?! She sprang up from the bed, but noticed nothing. Letting out a quick breath, her focus shifted toward the nightstand and realized a can of Smash was foaming over and leaking out. Taking every ounce of self-restraint not to moan aloud, she stood up and picked up the can, turning around with a sultry smile.

"Thirsty? Open wide." Her demand was met with a grin as he opened his mouth, she started pouring the yellow foamy beverage in his gullet. Drinking the liquid as he closed his eyes, as it splashed on his lips. Stopping once his body shivered from her pouring some onto his chest. She laughed. He merely looked disappointed.

"Aw, don't waste that-it was the last can." He quasi-complained, too aroused to actually care.

"There, you smell like gasoline now." She quipped while heading toward the window, promptly shutting and locking it, as cars screeched past. "I'm going to go wash my hair, I'll be back." She said heading into the adjacent wet room.

"What-seriously? Take these off me then…" Attempting to sit up against the headboard, but failing to budge.

"Good things come to those who wait." She teased, not in his view as the rest of her clothes were thrown off. He groaned in response and muttered under his breath as the shower turned on.

"I think you enjoy dominating, a little too much..." He cracked a smile in thought, "Never thought I'd love someone so complicated."

---

Mere minutes passed as multiple convertibles parked in the streets, with several men getting out of their cars. Meanwhile; neither were the wiser as she couldn't stop herself from giggling, hearing her boyfriend's purposefully bad singing. Crash! A sound of shattered glass and her boyfriend shouting at her, seeing a molotov cocktail landing beside his bed.

"Madeline!" A sudden eruption of intense flames, the entire bed was burning up in a matter of seconds, as black smoke filled the place. Sounds of screaming in his futile struggle, pulling on the straps, feeling the fire searing his skin. She rushed out of the shower, immediately coughing profusely at the fumes, hands covering her mouth and nose. The fire alarm began wailing into her eardrums.

"Ethan!" She screamed in horror, stepping forth as the second projectile was hurled into the window. Viewing a fiery explosion bursting outside, her following scream was deafening and his fell silent. A harrowing thought that her degenerate lifestyle, contrasted with her youth spent at church finally bound their souls to Hell. But she’d soon learn it was naive to believe her suffering had ended, for true torment is eternal. Madeline lost consciousness before the demons broke through the front door, following orders from the devil that had other plans. The perpetrators fled the area long before the sirens could be heard blaring from a distance. By the time it was extinguished, their apartment had been reduced to ashes...

---

Years later...

A lycanthrope stalked their target in silence. Her reddish fur lit by the sunlight peeking from windows. The helmet she wore, recorded the graffiti plastered all around, serving a bleak reminder that this decrepit building once served a purpose. She crept through the abandoned warehouse, dodging any needles or sharp objects littering the floor that could be walked on with her bare paws. Entering a stretch of hallway with nothing but towering pillars connected to the ceiling. She didn’t need heightened senses to catch a strong whiff of trash getting closer, turning the corner to see a dead-end with a large pile of garbage that smelled like urine. She observed the faint smoldering of a stray cigarette that had recently been smoked among the assortment. Holding her breath and digging her claws through the bags, finding something else too new and wholly out of place; a cybernetic disk drive. Taking the piece of evidence whilst pulling out one of her M970 Beretta’s from the holster strapped to her hip, hearing sounds of someone approaching from behind. Swiftly facing the assailant positioned fifteen feet from her, both aiming their firearms at each other. A baseball cap poorly masking his identity. His face looked young, with patchy stubble growing underneath his chin. Seeing the artificial glow of his eyes, as the dark shades slid to the edge of his long nose.

“Drop it. I’m not looking to shed blood today. Especially, not from some amateur thug foolhardy enough to aim their gun at a beast with the safety on.” Keeping a steady posture, with her index-finger still hovering over the trigger, watching as the man visibly trembled, dropping the gun and raising his hands above his head. She motioned with her firearm for him to turn.

“Please-I have family…” He pleaded complying to her command. She lunged forward, gripping his shoulder tightly and sticking the Beretta in his back.

“Another drawback of cheap labor, and accepting under-the-table work.” She thought before speaking in a cold tone. “Keep quiet and move, and you’ll live.” An extra annoyance distracting her from finishing the job. She guided him outside into an fenced off alleyway, with only one way out. She shoved him away, causing him to stumble forth and freeze. She sighed and lowered her gun, shoving it into her holster. She peered up at the building across the street, waving her left hand up in a deliberate manner.

“T-thank you…” He uttered, his voice cracking.

“Just get out of here-” Cutting her annoyed reply short, alerted as the sound a shot rang out followed by the man suddenly collapsing to the ground. She rushed forward and flipped him over, fingers putting pressure on the copious amount of blood gushing from his neck. She saw the life had already faded from his eyes. Standing up with bloodstained hands, leaving behind a hollow husk, resembling the emptiness she’d feel completing another assignment…

---

It was hard to admire the scenery with her eyes closed the whole ride home. Forgoing a seatbelt and laying on her side, taking up the entire back-seat, with her muzzle facing the leather, inadvertently inhaling the new car smell. Tuning out the roar of the afternoon, the same honking horns and yelling crowds as everyday. Most importantly, managing to drown out the drivers fast talk blathering. Pet dogs couldn’t drive; one of many established rules that were strictly followed, with certain punishment for those that break them. Basically forcing her into having a partner with every Reaper job, usually someone as slick a paralyzed goat covered in mud, and half as intelligent and attractive. He ordered her to use a bottle of water and a rag to scrub her hands clean and promptly discard them, unless she preferred walking.

The driver stopped at the last red light before reaching their destination, fidgeting with the radio dial, turning it to a weather report. He looked at her in the rear-view mirror and smirked, showing his taxicab yellow teeth. His inflection sounded like he was gargling salt water.

“You know for a freak. Your ass is still fine-” Feeling a swift heavy kick behind his chair in response, body jolting forward. In a moment of thought, she declined to verbalize her disgust, believing judgement was only a block away. He scoffed but kept his mouth shut, gripping the wheel tightly, driving across busy intersection the instant it turned green, barely dodging a collision with a truck slamming their breaks, coming from the passenger's side. Arriving at ‘The Fortress’ upon the agreed time, both knowing their boss would be anxiously waiting for them.

---

The Fortress; an accurate representation of the proverb of a house that never felt like home. No matter how many times she went through the entrance tunnel that was just narrow enough to give the claustrophobic a panic attack, everything seemed fabricated, a dream-like world that she couldn’t escape from. Personally speaking, it didn’t help that it always too warm for someone covered in fur.

Both walking inside the predominately white room, with various white objects and furnishings, the boss sitting in the middle of the sofa, accented with light blue pillows, the section of wall behind him shelved a large collection of books. He shifted to the right, facing a fake miniature tree, to unleash clouds of cigar smoke from his mouth. She slowly approached the pudgy man, kneeling beside the couch, as her partner set down a suitcase containing the retrieved disk and a sniper rifle and lightly tapped his foot. The boss gave her a pleasant smile, taking her helmet off with his hands and setting it in on the table, gently stroking the wolf head beneath. His affectionate gaze painted a picture of far more innocent soul. She’d compare the atmosphere in his presence closely related to the cigar’s he frequently smoked; toxic, destructive and malignant.

“Scarlett, my beautiful. Did you locate the archives?”

She purposely paused, withholding that answer until her partner interrupted.

“We got it boss. It’s in my case.” He responded, opening the suitcase with an audible click. She merely waited for a perfect moment, watching the boss cross his arms and lean back, his thick eyebrows twitching.

“I asked my pet-” The boss half-chuckled shooting a cold glare matching the tone of his final words, “Not you.” Inhaling and exhaling another cloud of smoke into the air. She nodded her head, responding to his glance at her then stood up and took the drive from the case, sitting on the sofa next to him. Now was the time to reveal the news...

“Master, he killed an unarmed man. A non-threat to our assignment, and he also left the body there.” She said.

“He was armed-” He argued.

“Master, I have the whole thing recorded.” She snapped back, the man looked surprised at the revelation.

“Sir, I didn’t think it would be smart to leave any witness.”

The boss raised his hand ceasing the argument into an awkward silence, he emptied his cigar in an ashtray and tossed a matchbook from his pants pocket onto the table.

“Would you mind re-lighting my cigar?” The boss said holding it out. The man quickly stepped forward, and picked up the match box and lit a match. The men bent over to hold the match up the cigar. The boss slammed the cigar butt straight into the man’s eye, followed by scream of agony as the man clutched his face, casually putting the cigar between in his lips, smoke pouring from his nostrils like a dragon. “You’ve already been paid generously. Get out of my sight.” He spoke dismissively, without a hint of emotion in his voice. The man fled fast as his legs could carry him, leaving the two alone. Was she sick to have enjoyed the entertainment?

“Scarlett, I had another important assignment come in. Everything I’ve prepared you for is required for this retrieval process.” He said getting back into business, pulling out a folder in-between the cushions and pulling out a black dog collar and leash behind the pillows.

“What am I retrieving?” Scarlett asked, looking at the opened folder dropped on the table with papers spreading out. Quickly noticing these weren’t pictures of weapons or technology, her drumbeat heart pounding unconsciously. Hearing her rapid pulse produce a melody in her ears. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump.

“Capture this man, Lieutenant Davison and bring him to us.” He said with a smile, leaning to whisper into her ear and snapping the collar around her neck, “Your reward will be getting the vengeance you so desperately seek.”

“What?! He found them!?” Her eyes widened, mouth slightly agape rendered speechless.

"That's exactly what I meant." He clarified like an omniscient being that could read her mind, simultaneously attaching the leash and caressing her back with his fingertips. "Every last one of them will be brought to my pet on a silver platter, for you to play with as long as your heart desires-"

She gulped and clenched her hands, hastily replying cutting his sentence off. “Where do I start?”

He chuckled and stood up, playfully yanking the leash. “I like it when my pet is eager to please her master,” He teased, “let’s go to my bedroom. I’ll get you caught up on all the details…”

---

Her previous happy life had been stolen and enveloped in darkness. Her degrading situation left her stranded without options, becoming a specter of her former self performing horrendously boring tasks she had a knack for. Awake an endless succession of nights, only grasping for the spider’s-thin thread keeping her sanity from breaking. Getting revenge was the defining reason for her existence. This is where everything truly started for Madeline, now called Scarlett. Completing what she would see as her final assignment; finding Police Lieutenant Davison and exchanging him for her achieving her purpose. But having no idea just how difficult it would be to claw up the colossal wall standing in front of her, nor how many others with shared goals would wrench her back down into the abyss...

Now for much briefer thoughts to close.

Arena: I've not partaken in these on this forum. I have done so in previous, though I don't think it's quite my thing. But this section appears to be the same problem that many other forums/subsections had/have as well for quite some time. The lack of a consistent moderator/mediator. There seems to be too much in-between arguing that leads to stand-stills, where a third person/overseer is suppose to be spectating matches like this and making calls that players can't find common ground on. A previous forum had several people dedicated to simply follow all arena matches and acting as judges who had the final say. Rarely did anyone complain about bias. It's something that would be very helpful.

1x1: This isn't forum specific. There's lots of smut. (No judgement here.) Also, many people saying to PM them and not answering. But it's probably the best way to start a roleplay with somebody, if writing is your biggest concern. Like somebody has already mentioned, it's a good way to have the most say in the build of a story and characters without having the wherewithal to write a novel. No one to babysit, no complications if someone drops or goes on hiatus without so much as a word. Role playing in it's simplest form, but not necessarily it's most basic. I'd urge anyone to try this, if Casual isn't turning up any active successes, and you feel like doing more writing than Free tends to provide.

Hell, try writing some weird smut or something you may feel just slightly 'cringey' about, or uncomfortable with. It may just improve your ability to write things outside your usual scope. If you can get comfortable with hyper-violent and sexual content it only expands your knowledge of the written word.

Tabletop & Nation: Sadly, I can't make comparisons here. Nor, have a participated and I honestly haven't read enough of others work to make anything accurate to the sections as a whole. But they're not super-active and I'd be interested in giving them a try. Just never had anyone extend such an offer.

And that's all my opinions, not-so neatly complied. Whatever section you may enjoy or frequent. I believe all can be valid, no matter you're ability and also improve for the better. Now stop reading this, and get to writing. :P

Printed guns, melded metal - An experimental GM-less Cyberpunk RP

@13org Ha ha. No. That one is Magical Girl Rising Project. Basically an anime of fight scenes and dying. :P

It's not exactly the best story. But I found it a serviceable watch. (Though I enjoy the genre/tone.) The main character doesn't do a whole lot, which was one of most people's main critique watching the show. (It's ending song is better than it's opening.)

Printed guns, melded metal - An experimental GM-less Cyberpunk RP

@13org I have like a ten-dozen random ones. So you may have to be specific. ;P

Probably speaking of Mobile Suit Gundam IRON-BLOODED ORPHANS. It is quite an enjoyable anime. Certainly has the three episode rule hook down. Middle of the season drags a bit in too much political talk. It's also basically one of the very few pieces of art I've consumed that give the villains plot armor which can become frustrating. But it's one of the only Mecha I've seen in a while that I've thoroughly enjoyed the ride. You also don't need to know anything about the rest of the series to watch/enjoy it as far as I'm aware.

*Has good openings too* :P