Okay! I'll be slowing down too because I need to keep working on my school stuff. I managed to get one up today though ^^
Cas isn't a good patient xD
Cas isn't a good patient xD
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STATUS: Does this mean we can call you abmin now? 2 yrs ago
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Does this mean we can call you abmin now?
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300 word minimum is pretty standard for casual level and up in my experience
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Just discovered Dog TV. My pitbull and I have a new shared hobby.
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Barbenheimer 2023
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There's a panhandler who hangs out on the street corner by our dispensary every afternoon with a sign that just says "Green 4 Green?" and tbh, I respect my boy's confidence.
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Bio
Personal Profile
Name: Taylor
Pronouns: They/them
Age: Mid 20s
Relationship: Married (happily, I might add)
Time Zone: Arizona (we hate daylight savings, so it's MST year-round)
Writing History: I've been on a number of different roleplaying websites for over a decade and a half
Hobbies: Writing, fitness, driving/exploring, hiking, camping, traveling, tabletop games, anything NEW (I love trying things I've never done before)
Roleplayer Profile
Format: 1x1s only. Maybe I'll try a group RP again someday, but I've never had one last longer than a few months
Posting Speed: Depending on my schedule, I can usually post at least once per week
Favorite Genres: Modern, Historical, Romance, Action/Adventure, Horror/Dark, Fantasy, Slice of Life, Dystopian, can be convinced to write some Sci-Fi
Hard 'no's: Fandoms. Sorry, but I can't maintain interest in characters/worlds I didn't build with my partner
Template: Public threads or PMs. I prefer to keep all my RPs in one place, so no emails or G-docs or the like
Rating: Comfortable with 18+ content, but it's not a necessity and I prefer not to center a plot around explicit scenes
Level: Advanced. Will consistently provide around 400-700 words per post, but can occasionally leap to 2000+
Character preference: One main character, but large side casts are greatly enjoyed. Because I write long posts, I prefer not to double
Gender preference: Male. You'll be hard pressed to convince me to play a female that isn't a background character. It's just not my forte
Romantic Relationships: MxF or MxM (currently prefer MxM)
Character Images: Faceclaims or detailed descriptions only. I envision the characters like real people in my mind, so I can't take anime seriously
OOC chat: Yes please! I'm a total extrovert who loves to get to know the amazing minds behind my partners' characters
Most Recent Posts
“Thanks,” Cas sighed, appreciative that Iris was willing to give him time to process everything. He needed to decide for himself what to do and who to trust, seeking a balance between his old habits and the new impulse to push everyone away. Neither one was healthy. Believing all people were good had landed him in a rebel holding cell, and running away from them had driven a wedge between him and the only person outside the capital who had proven that she was on his side. He needed to find a middle ground on his own, learning how to read others better and make informed decisions about who was trustworthy and who was not. It was the only way he could start to regain confidence in his assessment of the world around him.
For now, that meant not brushing aside her betrayal as if everything was perfectly fine between them. Even if he believed she wasn’t against him anymore, he had to lay down some boundaries or he’d relapse into his old patterns of only focusing on the good things she’d done since they’d first met. He knew himself well enough to worry that if he did that, he’d let his feelings get the best of him and put himself in a position to get hurt all over again.
So, when she climbed up next to him on the bed, he tensed and cleared his throat awkwardly. “Sure,” he murmured, letting his hand fall into his lap so she could take over untying the cloth. If he knew more about taking care of his own injuries, he might have protested, but she seemed to have more experience with wounds than he did. Although he couldn’t see her very well in the windowless room, he could feel her fingers moving deftly to remove the makeshift bandages from his arm. Idly, he wondered if her knowledge came from living with her father. If Regis wasn’t afraid to hit her in front of someone else, who knew what he could have done to her behind closed doors? The thought stirred a pang of anger inside of him. He still couldn’t believe a man could be so heartless that he would be willing to lay his hands on his own daughter.
Unable to see what Iris was doing, Cas hissed through his teeth and arched his spine sideways when Iris suddenly touched the alcoholic wipe to his arm. The chemical stung fiercely enough to make his eyes water, but he forced himself to sit still while she cleaned the torn skin, reminding himself that a little pain now was better than a severe infection later. He wanted to keep his arm when he got back to the capital. “Thanks,” he sniffed, rubbing the tears from his eyes with the heel of his left palm. He took the remaining wipes from her to clean the dried blood off his hands and exhaled deeply, relieved that she was done cleaning the surface of the stab wound. His inflamed skin still burned residually in response to being irritated, but the discomfort was mild compared to what he’d felt a few second ago.
He scrubbed his hands meticulously, trying to get rid of as much blood as he could even though he couldn’t see his progress in the dark. One wipe was used to clean up the brown-red streaks on his left hand, three more were used on his right, and he opened one more after that to start working his way up his left forearm. It was then that Iris pressed the dressing to his arm, and he cringed, biting down on his lip and curling his fingers into tight fists at his sides. The touch of the patch stung just as much as the alcohol had. “Fuck,” he gasped, hitting the mattress twice with his right hand as an outlet for the pain. As she bound the dressing in place, he held his breath, only letting it out once she was done.
“Sorry,” he mumbled with chagrin, embarrassed by how much he squirmed when she’d treated him. He glanced up toward where he guessed her face would be as he felt her get up from the bed. “I’m not used to…” He trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence. Not used to being stabbed? It felt like a weird thing to say, so instead, he latched onto the subject she chose. “It’s fine. It’s just one night,” he shook his head dismissively, reaching for the other food item she’d given him earlier to find out what it was. Upon opening the package, he was struck with a sweet smell that made his stomach growl desirously. It was a pie.
“Do you, um, have any utensils for this?” he asked, turning to the last place he’d heard her voice. As hungry as he was, he hoped they at least had forks, so he wouldn’t have to dig into the pie with his hands like a savage.
For now, that meant not brushing aside her betrayal as if everything was perfectly fine between them. Even if he believed she wasn’t against him anymore, he had to lay down some boundaries or he’d relapse into his old patterns of only focusing on the good things she’d done since they’d first met. He knew himself well enough to worry that if he did that, he’d let his feelings get the best of him and put himself in a position to get hurt all over again.
So, when she climbed up next to him on the bed, he tensed and cleared his throat awkwardly. “Sure,” he murmured, letting his hand fall into his lap so she could take over untying the cloth. If he knew more about taking care of his own injuries, he might have protested, but she seemed to have more experience with wounds than he did. Although he couldn’t see her very well in the windowless room, he could feel her fingers moving deftly to remove the makeshift bandages from his arm. Idly, he wondered if her knowledge came from living with her father. If Regis wasn’t afraid to hit her in front of someone else, who knew what he could have done to her behind closed doors? The thought stirred a pang of anger inside of him. He still couldn’t believe a man could be so heartless that he would be willing to lay his hands on his own daughter.
Unable to see what Iris was doing, Cas hissed through his teeth and arched his spine sideways when Iris suddenly touched the alcoholic wipe to his arm. The chemical stung fiercely enough to make his eyes water, but he forced himself to sit still while she cleaned the torn skin, reminding himself that a little pain now was better than a severe infection later. He wanted to keep his arm when he got back to the capital. “Thanks,” he sniffed, rubbing the tears from his eyes with the heel of his left palm. He took the remaining wipes from her to clean the dried blood off his hands and exhaled deeply, relieved that she was done cleaning the surface of the stab wound. His inflamed skin still burned residually in response to being irritated, but the discomfort was mild compared to what he’d felt a few second ago.
He scrubbed his hands meticulously, trying to get rid of as much blood as he could even though he couldn’t see his progress in the dark. One wipe was used to clean up the brown-red streaks on his left hand, three more were used on his right, and he opened one more after that to start working his way up his left forearm. It was then that Iris pressed the dressing to his arm, and he cringed, biting down on his lip and curling his fingers into tight fists at his sides. The touch of the patch stung just as much as the alcohol had. “Fuck,” he gasped, hitting the mattress twice with his right hand as an outlet for the pain. As she bound the dressing in place, he held his breath, only letting it out once she was done.
“Sorry,” he mumbled with chagrin, embarrassed by how much he squirmed when she’d treated him. He glanced up toward where he guessed her face would be as he felt her get up from the bed. “I’m not used to…” He trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence. Not used to being stabbed? It felt like a weird thing to say, so instead, he latched onto the subject she chose. “It’s fine. It’s just one night,” he shook his head dismissively, reaching for the other food item she’d given him earlier to find out what it was. Upon opening the package, he was struck with a sweet smell that made his stomach growl desirously. It was a pie.
“Do you, um, have any utensils for this?” he asked, turning to the last place he’d heard her voice. As hungry as he was, he hoped they at least had forks, so he wouldn’t have to dig into the pie with his hands like a savage.
I live for character development, haha. I never make a character who's the same at the end of a story as they were at the beginning cx
Thanks! It's due in four weeks, and I'm feeling the pressure ^^;
Thanks! It's due in four weeks, and I'm feeling the pressure ^^;
I took a break to write haha
Got something done for one class. Now I just have my big project to work on today
Got something done for one class. Now I just have my big project to work on today
When Iris asked if he would believe her answer, Cas shrugged. That was yet to be determined by the answer she gave. In general, he was a trusting person, prone to seeing the best in everyone before their flaws, so being betrayed by someone he’d not only trusted but had also started to fall for had been devastating. He wasn’t going to forget about what she’d done very quickly, and he was still gauging how much faith he could put in her after she’d led him on once. Thus far, he’d decided that she was genuinely trying to help him escape from the other rebels, but it was still hard for him to see anything beyond that when the image he had of her was overshadowed by the reminder that she’d tricked him in the forest.
Her claim that Ethan wasn’t her boyfriend made him raise his brows though. “If he’s not your boyfriend, then why did he tell me he was?” he probed her skeptically, scooting back on the bed to lean his shoulders against the wall. “And the last time he came up in our conversations, you didn’t deny that you’re together. Your story isn’t lining up.” He stretched out his legs on the mattress and placed the package of bread in his lap, continuing to eat while they talked. Privately, he knew he was interrogating her pretty harshly, but he had to make sure she wasn’t lying again. To keep from being duped a second time, he paid close attention to everything she was saying, hyper alert for inconsistencies that he usually wouldn’t have noticed. He had to learn to be more critical of the things other people said, so he wouldn’t be taken advantage of for being gullible ever again.
As she went on about the motives behind the Scourge, he listened quietly. Most of it was propaganda that he’d already heard before. The rebels claimed that there was rampant inequality in Aspiria and that they were going to dismantle the crown to bring better life to everyone outside the capital. In reality, he believed they just wanted to kill all the people who were better off than they were. It was true that the capital was the gem of the country. He would never deny that. They had the best technology, the best doctors, the best teachers and lawyers and security. But the luxuries high borns enjoyed wasn’t restricted to those who happened to be born to families with old money. Anyone in Aspiria could earn the title of high born through hard work and ambition. All the label signified was a net worth of above one million credits. He was sure there were high borns living throughout the other districts as well. Business owners, surgeons, entrepreneurs, and anyone else who had made a name for themselves beyond the walls of the capital. It was the beauty of the nation his ancestors had built, and it was what the Scourge was threatening to bring to ruin.
The prince parted his lips to tell her that the rebellion had always been corrupt, but his thoughts derailed when she went on to say that had always liked him. In spite of himself, the words made his heart flutter, and he silently chided himself for getting so excited when he still didn’t know if she was telling him the truth. Still, she didn’t sound like she was lying. He sat without speaking, processing what she was saying to him. What if he had it all wrong? The voice inside of him that wanted to believe her grew louder. Ever since he’d woken up in a cell, he’d been acting like a caged animal. Everyone was an enemy, and no one was on his side. Yet, here he was in a bomb shelter with a woman who’d been telling him over and over that she wanted to help him. He contemplatively chewed on the inside of his lip, suddenly worried that he’d let his fear of being humiliated again get the best of him.
“Iris…” he started, tentatively reaching out toward her silhouette with his good arm and then faltering. As much as he wanted to believe she was the same person he’d gotten to know in the capital, he couldn’t bring himself to look past the pain of her betrayal just yet. There were still too many emotions he needed to sort through. He sighed and retracted his hand, dragging his fingers through his messy, dirty hair. “I’m going to need some time to think,” he said in a hushed tone. A brief silence fell as he lapsed from the conversation before the quiet was replaced with a soft rustling.
“I’ll take that painkiller though,” he told her with a wince as he attempted to untie the cloth she’d wrapped around his arm. The fabric was damp with blood, but it didn’t seem like he was bleeding much anymore if at all. Hopefully that meant he was starting to heal.
Her claim that Ethan wasn’t her boyfriend made him raise his brows though. “If he’s not your boyfriend, then why did he tell me he was?” he probed her skeptically, scooting back on the bed to lean his shoulders against the wall. “And the last time he came up in our conversations, you didn’t deny that you’re together. Your story isn’t lining up.” He stretched out his legs on the mattress and placed the package of bread in his lap, continuing to eat while they talked. Privately, he knew he was interrogating her pretty harshly, but he had to make sure she wasn’t lying again. To keep from being duped a second time, he paid close attention to everything she was saying, hyper alert for inconsistencies that he usually wouldn’t have noticed. He had to learn to be more critical of the things other people said, so he wouldn’t be taken advantage of for being gullible ever again.
As she went on about the motives behind the Scourge, he listened quietly. Most of it was propaganda that he’d already heard before. The rebels claimed that there was rampant inequality in Aspiria and that they were going to dismantle the crown to bring better life to everyone outside the capital. In reality, he believed they just wanted to kill all the people who were better off than they were. It was true that the capital was the gem of the country. He would never deny that. They had the best technology, the best doctors, the best teachers and lawyers and security. But the luxuries high borns enjoyed wasn’t restricted to those who happened to be born to families with old money. Anyone in Aspiria could earn the title of high born through hard work and ambition. All the label signified was a net worth of above one million credits. He was sure there were high borns living throughout the other districts as well. Business owners, surgeons, entrepreneurs, and anyone else who had made a name for themselves beyond the walls of the capital. It was the beauty of the nation his ancestors had built, and it was what the Scourge was threatening to bring to ruin.
The prince parted his lips to tell her that the rebellion had always been corrupt, but his thoughts derailed when she went on to say that had always liked him. In spite of himself, the words made his heart flutter, and he silently chided himself for getting so excited when he still didn’t know if she was telling him the truth. Still, she didn’t sound like she was lying. He sat without speaking, processing what she was saying to him. What if he had it all wrong? The voice inside of him that wanted to believe her grew louder. Ever since he’d woken up in a cell, he’d been acting like a caged animal. Everyone was an enemy, and no one was on his side. Yet, here he was in a bomb shelter with a woman who’d been telling him over and over that she wanted to help him. He contemplatively chewed on the inside of his lip, suddenly worried that he’d let his fear of being humiliated again get the best of him.
“Iris…” he started, tentatively reaching out toward her silhouette with his good arm and then faltering. As much as he wanted to believe she was the same person he’d gotten to know in the capital, he couldn’t bring himself to look past the pain of her betrayal just yet. There were still too many emotions he needed to sort through. He sighed and retracted his hand, dragging his fingers through his messy, dirty hair. “I’m going to need some time to think,” he said in a hushed tone. A brief silence fell as he lapsed from the conversation before the quiet was replaced with a soft rustling.
“I’ll take that painkiller though,” he told her with a wince as he attempted to untie the cloth she’d wrapped around his arm. The fabric was damp with blood, but it didn’t seem like he was bleeding much anymore if at all. Hopefully that meant he was starting to heal.
My husband is like that sometimes, haha. Every once in a while he'll stay up until two or three playing a game and then regret it when he has to work at 7am xD
I'm working on my project again today (I've just been taking Fridays and/or Saturdays off) so I'll get a post up when I can!
I'm working on my project again today (I've just been taking Fridays and/or Saturdays off) so I'll get a post up when I can!
Gotta do what ya gotta do xD
I had to throw in another Naida blunder haha
I had to throw in another Naida blunder haha
“Good,” Crow couldn’t help but add a bit smugly as he finally got his way. Squeezing all seven of them into a room meant for no more than two to four people had the potential to be uncomfortable, but at least he’d made sure Penelope had a bed. Aside from that, he genuinely didn’t mind sleeping on the floor. As controlling as Otto was, the viceroy preferred him to take the other bed, so he would be able to fight at his best capacity if they were attacked by mercenaries. The man had advanced past his prime, after all, so he was the most likely one among them to wake up with a sore back after spending the night on wooden slats.
As the baron walked away to secure a room for them, Crow glanced at Penelope and Naida, who’d begun talking amongst themselves. He would have preferred to be the one sharing a bed with the knight, but he already knew that wouldn’t have been possible. Sleeping next to her with five other people in the room who thought it was scandalous would have been uncomfortable, and Otto would have balked at a request to have a separate room for the night. They wouldn’t be able to get away with it this time, but at least they would be able to formally be together once he returned from Younis. The thought brought a smile to his lips. He couldn’t wait to get back and spend more time with her without having to keep it a secret from everyone else.
When the wench arrived to take their requests, he looked away from the two noblewomen to tell her that he was in the mood for veal and ale. She nodded with forced politeness and moved on to the next person, and the viceroy blinked at the sound of Penelope’s voice on his other side. “I’d like that,” he smiled back at her, enthused by the thought of being alone with her before they had to part for a while. Otto would disapprove of them disappearing before bed, but it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission. He glanced briefly at the others and leaned toward her cheek, acting as if he was just planting a kiss as he breathed, “I’ll just tell my chaperone that I need to use the privy if he asks any questions and meet you in front of the inn.”
“I’m so happy this is finally happening,” Naida grinned at them, clearly falling for the former thief’s ruse and thinking he’d just pressed an affectionate kiss to Penelope’s cheek. “My best friend is going to marry my—another one of my closest friends.” As she spoke, Crow had realized what she was about to say and kicked her underneath the table. She smiled at him sheepishly. “I mean, you two are perfect for each other; and because we’re all so close, I get to watch this relationship unfold for a long time. You’d better name me the godmother of your children, or I’m going to be upset!”
Crow blanched. His sister wasn’t great at covering up lies, but he hadn’t expected her to go that direction to explain away her reason for talking about them in the first place. He coughed awkwardly. The subject of the future was something he’d only gotten used to discussing with Penelope. He was far from ready to talk about it openly in front of a table full of people he didn’t know very well. Attempting to change the topic, he turned to Rayner, “So, have you ever been to Younis before?”
The lieutenant stared at him, either thrown off by Naida’s shamelessness or surprised that he was being addressed. After a moment, he shook his head. “Never. I haven’t been a knight long enough to have had the opportunity. Younis’s borders have been closed to Brerra for years.”
“Sounds like it’ll be a first for most of the people in this group then, huh?” Crow mused, reaching subtly for Penelope’s hand beneath the table and lacing his fingers with hers. “It’s a beautiful kingdom. Even better in the warmer seasons because they have so many olive trees. It’s too bad we’re going in the winter because I was hoping to take some olives home the next time I visited.”
As the baron walked away to secure a room for them, Crow glanced at Penelope and Naida, who’d begun talking amongst themselves. He would have preferred to be the one sharing a bed with the knight, but he already knew that wouldn’t have been possible. Sleeping next to her with five other people in the room who thought it was scandalous would have been uncomfortable, and Otto would have balked at a request to have a separate room for the night. They wouldn’t be able to get away with it this time, but at least they would be able to formally be together once he returned from Younis. The thought brought a smile to his lips. He couldn’t wait to get back and spend more time with her without having to keep it a secret from everyone else.
When the wench arrived to take their requests, he looked away from the two noblewomen to tell her that he was in the mood for veal and ale. She nodded with forced politeness and moved on to the next person, and the viceroy blinked at the sound of Penelope’s voice on his other side. “I’d like that,” he smiled back at her, enthused by the thought of being alone with her before they had to part for a while. Otto would disapprove of them disappearing before bed, but it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission. He glanced briefly at the others and leaned toward her cheek, acting as if he was just planting a kiss as he breathed, “I’ll just tell my chaperone that I need to use the privy if he asks any questions and meet you in front of the inn.”
“I’m so happy this is finally happening,” Naida grinned at them, clearly falling for the former thief’s ruse and thinking he’d just pressed an affectionate kiss to Penelope’s cheek. “My best friend is going to marry my—another one of my closest friends.” As she spoke, Crow had realized what she was about to say and kicked her underneath the table. She smiled at him sheepishly. “I mean, you two are perfect for each other; and because we’re all so close, I get to watch this relationship unfold for a long time. You’d better name me the godmother of your children, or I’m going to be upset!”
Crow blanched. His sister wasn’t great at covering up lies, but he hadn’t expected her to go that direction to explain away her reason for talking about them in the first place. He coughed awkwardly. The subject of the future was something he’d only gotten used to discussing with Penelope. He was far from ready to talk about it openly in front of a table full of people he didn’t know very well. Attempting to change the topic, he turned to Rayner, “So, have you ever been to Younis before?”
The lieutenant stared at him, either thrown off by Naida’s shamelessness or surprised that he was being addressed. After a moment, he shook his head. “Never. I haven’t been a knight long enough to have had the opportunity. Younis’s borders have been closed to Brerra for years.”
“Sounds like it’ll be a first for most of the people in this group then, huh?” Crow mused, reaching subtly for Penelope’s hand beneath the table and lacing his fingers with hers. “It’s a beautiful kingdom. Even better in the warmer seasons because they have so many olive trees. It’s too bad we’re going in the winter because I was hoping to take some olives home the next time I visited.”
3am is still way later than I'm ever awake xD I'm an old person who goes to bed at 10pm every night. Although that's partly because my husband has to be up for work early and we always get up at the same time.
Hahaha yeah, Cas is a spoiled little boy. Not having luxuries at the tips of his fingers is a whole new experience for him. It'll be yet another change he has to adjust to while he and Iris are on the run.
Hahaha yeah, Cas is a spoiled little boy. Not having luxuries at the tips of his fingers is a whole new experience for him. It'll be yet another change he has to adjust to while he and Iris are on the run.
My focus is elsewhere today apparently xD I managed to write one more though!
And yeah, Cas is still in the middle of his paradigm shift. I think he'll be in denial for a while before it suddenly hits him, and he'll realize everything he was told was a lie
And yeah, Cas is still in the middle of his paradigm shift. I think he'll be in denial for a while before it suddenly hits him, and he'll realize everything he was told was a lie
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