Sniblet

2086 - A Cyberpunk RP

A little scared to step on toes but this looks like an in
@Kiragan_Natsuki @Eviledd1984

2086 - A Cyberpunk RP

"See, this is what I'm always talking about. You there, chatbot, you're the problem. Mods, get him already. No one's here to read yet another Nova-"
Mira trails off. Her phone is ringing. She checks the screen, reads "Contractor," and her mood gets a little worse.
"Ad break."
Her lenses retract. She's alone in the alley again. "Hey-hey?"
"NCS947."
A synthesized voice slowly reads out her ID number in the Milicor Operations Division. She sighs. "That's me."
"Verification code."
"85700909."
"Message drop. Grid coordinates NC 1991, 743. Requires decryption key. Will provide upon acknowledgement."
"Faraday, record the following code as 'Decryption Key.'"
Talking to Milicor can be exhausting.

Behind a pile of garbage bags, Mira finds her drop: a thumb drive in a plastic bag. Plug it into her phone, have Faraday connect to the phone. Such a lot of work.
_{"Contents encrypted."}
"Use Decryption Key to decrypt it."
_{"Processing. Contents decrypted. One text document."}
"Read it to me."
_{"Warning: unauthorized viewing or photography of this document is a class 2-"}
She rolls her eyes, her patience nearly dry. "Faraday, skip this paragraph."

_{"Operative NCS947: Your services are urgently required in your current sector. 40% advance payment has been sent to your account. Briefing pursuant:
Unknown operatives, presumed independent, have recently been reported in armed conflict with security forces wearing identification from the Bematech Corporation in an unknown structure at NC 1440, 311. Police response has apprehended the operatives - as of time of writing, cruiser is currently enroute to precinct at NC 742, 521. Objectives pursuant:
Identify objective of independent operatives. Identify purpose of presumed Bematech facility. Report any further information regarding the conflict or the facility. Minimize personal and MDI involvement according to SOP, with allowance for freeing independent operatives from custody if necessary.
Videocall booth at NC 1439, 314 is reserved until 500 hours local time for post-action report.
Local Regulator cells have been notified of imminent operation and limited cooperation can be expected. Per usual, do not expect extensive help in conflict with police.
Post-script: Mira, we're serious about non-interference for this one. From where I'm sitting, this looks bigger than I can tell you. Don't get seen any more than you absofuckinglutely have to, and follow false flag protocols if you slip up. To be clear: if you get this traced to us, you're on your own with police, Bema, and whoever else you piss off. Go gentle as you can.
Lt. Brave, MDI Operations, Senior Handler.
Message ends."}

Mira's annoyance fades away entirely about midway through. There's no space for it. She quietly ends the ad break, checks the ammo in her handgun, and starts making plans.
"Guys, I might have to end the stream soon," she whispers, her thoughts elsewhere: over a thousand Milicor coordinate blocks away.
When it rains, it pours.

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

So far we have a clown, an animal mascot, a ghost, The Hero™, and The Plot™
We have a space for someone smart, and a push-up-glasses tsundere is one I haven't heard before

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

Real knighthood favors the noble, but this one will take any volunteer, so it ought to be near enough to a social cross-section, excepting fringe bits of logic like farming families not being interested in sparing their numbers
Play who you like, but anyone undecided is invited to go low-class

woops didnt read

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

We've got like two characters here who aren't actual nobility, if you're interested in diversity then Dime could use some more company down in the pits than just Mister Raised-by-Wolves
I can imagine she'll get along with him better than most, but like... the commonfolk aren't usually outnumbered

2086 - A Cyberpunk RP

@sniblet I'm stuck at work right now but I can post when I get home

@Hyyde322

Are you still in this? My condolences if you’re still on overtime

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

<Snipped quote by Sniblet>
Still, if you want to expand on your bio or redo stuff, go right ahead! No worries either way~.

@Feyblue

So I can stay crazy fantasy! Great, real life is boring.
I’ve been editing periodically and she might be in a finished state now - of course, I also thought that yesterday. So I’ll just call her a WIP until IC time, but there shouldn’t be further major changes.

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

See, that’s what I was afraid would happen. The GMPC even has Baker for a last name, and here I am calling Dime a commoner with a name like that…
I can rewrite or put out someone entirely different if needed, just not right away. Or if I don’t have to respect reality that much, that’s great. I can do something like make her a foreigner, whatever - background’s fully flexible, I did it all in like an hour as I went.

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

hey yeah sure yknow what ill try it ill post mine first weeee look at me go
still gravely disappointed about all the male characters pitched in the old thread, you'd best shape up.......

Dime

_______________________________________________ // INFO P E R S O N A L D E T A I L S Full Name – Dime (DEE-may) Silesia (sih-LEEZ-ee-uh) Age - 13 Gender - Female Heritage – Originally from Valefor, she and her family ran a travelling bakery – villages and cities would gather round and enjoy cheap delicacy for a day or two each, every few months. Commoners, but well-off as commoners go. Well, no more of that for her, but it’s where she came from, and her family’s still at it. Magical Affinity – Fire-wind: Lightning - // PERSONALITY P E R S O N A L I T Y A Crackling Dime is attuned to lightning, with most of what that entails. She’s not angry as a baseline, and no one can say she lacks willpower, but she fits the rest to a T. Passion! Energy! Curiosity! Self-destructive idiocy! Paralyzing fear of maturity! Never at Rest Like lightning, Dime can never sit still until she she's grounded. Unlike lightning, she doesn't go looking for grounding. So, she can never sit still. Not mentally, not physically: she's everywhere at once. Like lightning. Oh, is Something Wrong? Dime can notice other people. She might not always, or usually, or… basically you have to tell her something’s wrong for her to get it, but if she picks up on someone in trouble or feeling bad, she’ll always want to help. Her wind-elemental selfishness presents this way: she is empathic, she does care, it's just tempered by the fact that she's bafflingly oblivious. Hey, it helps with her boy disguise. // SKILLSET S K I L L S E T Lightning, Rod Dime can handle a spear - that’s a low bar. She can also zap things really good - often only as much as she means to. Almost a Baker Dime can cook… like… a few things? Like, she can do good bread. Um. Sometimes she thinks she’s here because her parents lost their patience trying to teach her... Not Good at Very Much Dime is excellent at not ceasing to talk once she starts.

Physical Description I want to say “just the image,” but look at those clothes… look at those shoes… look at that silly hat. Okay, now stop looking at them. Look at the girl. Imagine her dressed like a page dresses. Now you’re getting there. Dime has relatively little trouble looking the more-or-less masculine, or at least androgynous part, for now. Her body is enabling. Her face is not quite a boy’s face, but hey, that can happen to anyone. Her looks, together with her boyish personality, do her good, because beyond the usual crossdressers' habits - a little binding, a pitched-down voice, don't undress around the others - she seldom remembers that she’s supposed to try. With all that said, it's possible the order has already seen through her, and just doesn't care enough to miss out on a passionate and magically-gifted candidate over it, so long as she keeps the secret from peers and the public. Or maybe she's a charity case. Or... she really does have them fooled? Character Conceptualization Dime isn’t really sure why she’s here. Well, it’s because her parents pushed her into it, but like… you know… why? I mean, yeah, she was pretty clearly gifted with the whole, lightning thing. And, okay, so maybe that isn’t applicable when you’re just supposed to grow up and bake for a living. And – well – “It’s great that your son has the legacy in check, but does your daughter do anything?” Yeah, that one was embarrassing. Mmmm… maybe that’s why she’s here. Her parents love her and all, but at some point they must’ve decided that this was what’s best for her. There's no sign that she's going to slow down - flunking into the existence of a housewife would have been... bad. Also because these knight guys do a truly awful job at filtering out the girls – if she can fool them… Other Information Don’t tell her I told you, but she’s kind of a clown. She’s very liable to bumble into trouble. Sometimes she might even do it on purpose, just for an audience. You have my full permission to rampantly mispronounce her name.

[withdrawn]

"writing sample"

I write less than Stephen King says writers should, but I do write a lot
I did this one in kind of a fever today and I'm pretty proud of it, I wouldn't say it stands for most of my work though because this isn't my style and it plays with themes I've hardly ever touched
Hence the quotation marks
Enjoy?

---

One day, Little Miss Priscilla heard from her mom and dad that she was very, very sick. She wasn’t coughing and she wasn’t throwing up, but there were other ways to be sick. They said it was in her heart. Mom cried a lot.
They said they would try everything, and they took her everywhere. Everywhere except the village doctor. “Hello! My heart isn’t okay. Can you help me? Do you know anyone who can?”
One day, on her way to see a new doctor with mom, Little Miss Priscilla couldn’t walk anymore. She fell down and couldn’t catch herself, and couldn’t get up again. She felt tired. She didn’t know what happened for a while after that.
But she woke up, and she saw the village doctor’s wife. She was in bed, and the doctor’s wife was smiling at her. The priests all said she was a witch, but she looked okay. Little Miss Priscilla felt okay. She realized that she’d felt bad before, but she didn’t now.
The doctor’s wife said the doctor wasn’t here, but she had lots of the medicine that made Little Miss Priscilla feel okay again. It was red and thick and tasted like warm. She liked the medicine a lot. She got a little more, and then the doctor’s wife asked her mom and dad for a lot of money and let her go.
Little Miss Priscilla skipped the whole way home.
That night, she couldn’t sleep. She wasn’t tired. Mom couldn’t sleep either, because she was still worried. They talked a long time, and mom said her voice was strong again and cried a little more.
Mom went to sleep. Little Miss Priscilla tried hard, and then she did too. She dreamed of…
red.
Every night she stayed awake too late and dreamed of red.
Little Miss Priscilla wasn’t sick anymore, but now her favorite color was red.
*

One night, Little Miss Priscilla remembered the medicine. It had been red and thick and it tasted like warm.
Red,
And thick,
And tasted like warm.
She wanted…
Little Miss Priscilla wanted the medicine again. So she snuck out of bed and left her home and found the village doctor’s house. The moon was bright and white. She knocked on the door. Her mouth was watering and she felt kind of dizzy.
The doctor’s wife said the doctor wasn’t here, but she smiled and said of course she could give Little Miss Priscilla more medicine. She poured a cupful, and Little Miss Priscilla watched closely, and her heart felt strong just watching. Her mouth was watering so much.
“Do you know where we get this medicine from?” the doctor’s wife asked.
“No. Where do you get it?” Little Miss Priscilla wanted to know.
“There’s a lady in the castle who makes it. Take your medicine. I’ll tell you her name.”
She took the cup, and her hands were shaking a little, and she drank it really fast. The doctor’s wife walked past her and whispered a name that sounded like roses. She couldn’t hear it. Everything felt like red and she wasn’t thinking.
Little Miss Priscilla skipped the whole way home.
She couldn’t sleep. Her heart felt so strong. So red. She got up again and walked all around the house. Everything felt so together, but… still… she wanted…
Little Miss Priscilla never slept that night. But the next, she dreamed of…
roses.
Little Miss Priscilla had had her medicine again, and now her favorite flower was roses.
*

One night, Little Miss Priscilla remembered the name. It had been soft and wonderful and it sounded like roses. She wished she had heard it clearly. She wanted to say it. She wanted to know who it was that made her red.
Her medicine. Made her medicine. Little Miss Priscilla wasn’t red.
She wanted to paint. She wanted to paint with red paint. She wanted to make something red so she could see it.
So Little Miss Priscilla went to her mom and dad and said she wanted to paint. They said, okay. They said, anything for their lovely growing daughter. She just wanted the paint.
The next day, she took the canvas, and she took the paints. She put away all the ones that weren’t red. She painted a red rose, and then another one. She painted in red and her heart started feeling strong again. Her hands wanted to shake, but they couldn’t. They had to paint. She could barely tell what she was making until it was done.
A lady, outlined in red, dressed in a dress made of red roses. Her skin was the white of the canvas, her hair was the darkest red. Her eyes and her lips were the strongest red she’d ever seen, and she watched Little Miss Priscilla.
Her fingernails hurt a little. So did her wrist. She looked. She thought, “that must be the paint I used for the eyes and the lips.”
She looked at the painting.
She looked at the painting.
She looked at the painting.
The sun rose outside and she looked at the painting.
Her mom asked what she was doing. She asked what she’d made.
“The Lady in Roses,” said Little Miss Priscilla.
Her mom said it was pretty. Beautiful. She asked if Little Miss Priscilla had slept.
“She is beautiful,” said Little Miss Priscilla.
She kept the painting. She looked at the painting every night. Her heart felt strong every time she looked. The Lady in Roses was the one who made her red.
The next time she slept, she dreamed of…
the Lady.
Little Miss Priscilla knew what the Lady looked like now, and she was her favorite person.
*

One night, Miss Priscilla couldn’t stop looking at the Lady. The paints were all dry. Her face never moved. Her eyes were so intense, but they weren’t real.
The painting was so perfect that it made her heart writhe. But it was just a painting of the real Lady in Roses. She rose from her bed and her heart was still squirming. The image of the Lady was branded in her eyes and her head. She wanted…
She wanted to see the Lady. To touch her roses. To taste her red from the source. The want was physical. It made her dizzy like she hadn’t been since her heart was sick. The Lady in Roses was in the castle: that’s what the doctor’s wife had said. People went to the castle sometimes. Sometimes they came back. No one who lived there ever came out.
But Miss Priscilla wanted to meet the Lady. She wanted to hear the Lady’s voice and her real name. She wanted to know the Lady’s scent.
She could barely breathe. She felt weak like she hadn’t been since her heart was sick. But her heart was strong. She had to go now.
Miss Priscilla skipped the whole way to the castle.