Zhavi

I was suddenly without computer there, I am sorry! I will give you cookies and an epic post, I promise. >

My very first serious rp character was a failelf who was incredibly physically unappealing, as well as being very mentally disturbed. She functioned well as far as being able to keep herself alive, but due to her rather rare use of soap she was never once propositioned for a romantic relationship. I think that was the most effective way to stay out of any sort of rped romance, or to be the object of someone's ic/ooc desires. Though I've never been as extreme with any of my characters since, typically they're of a bent that romance just doesn't occur. But I would do a romantic relationship if it did occur -- but only as long as I was comfortable with the player oocly. I have seen some freaking fantastic rp romances, and I long to try my hand at it just sort of as a 'Can I do this?' type of thing. However, I do believe you'd have to find a compatible writer to rp it out with to really do justice to such a rp relationship, and the chances of me finding such a writer. . .mmm, slim. But even harder than that, I think, is finding another character who would mesh well enough with one of mine to rp out a platonic companionship -- and to have a player who would be interested in such intricacies. I've done a few, though due to the wearing nature of time these have all dropped off, and each time it was exhilirating. For all of this though, it is very, very rare for me to find any romantic/platonic relationships rped out by other people that I am interested in. The one that really got me to thinking about rp relationships was always exciting or interesting to read, and the interaction between those two characters always *really* made me want to rp. I think that is something I strive towards as a rper, to uphold enough quality that it will inspire other rpers to want to engage in their own rp. Sort of a 'oh wow, that's really cool, I want to try something like that.' I think I totally missed whatever point I was trying to make, hopefully someone understands. In the end, I am very interested in rping quality relationships that are complex and realistic and completely, COMPLETELY IC, but it is very rare to see this happen, whether they are ic or ooc. I think the ooc aspect of it tends to make people shy away from doing anything but superficial or familial relationships. And yeah, I know, you'll probably say 'but I did this!' . . .and I know, but when I look at character interactions as a whole whether they're in mmos or on pbp, a lot of the time there's nothing deep to pick up on. D: Some of it is probably just that it takes time to develop rapport, both as characters and players learning each other's writing styles, but still. Something that I mull over.

Dammit, I fantasize about company owned airships. DOWANTDOWANTDOWANTDOWANTDOWANTDOWANTDOWANTDOWANT.

"Hold it." She reached out to grab him firmly by the elbow. "Yer takin' me there." She pointed with emphasis to the map. She'd gotten the cloak halfway on, without care for the way it stuck to the damp patches on her body. She wrinkled her nose as she tried to fight off a sneeze from the deodorizer, and it bucked up the lines of scar tissue on her face to make her look like she was snarling.

I don't really know. . .I figured it was some alley in the lower level of the city, assuming that there's more buildings than what you see in game (devs never put in enough buildings to form a believable city, imo). Or something. My brain isn't working yet all the way. annnnd, feel free to have him evade her reaching for him. If she does grab him though, he'll find her grip to be quite firm.

What can of worms? *Is sometimes very stupid when it comes to english expressions* Hehe, 'opening a can of worms' is the expression used for when you trigger some major event with something that might otherwise seem inoffensive or not a big deal. So in this case, talking about [insert American political triggerword, such as 'socialism'] would be opening the can of worms, since people can get very emotionally overwrought by the topic. . . .or the simpler version wikipedia just gave me: A can of worms is a complex, troublesome situation arising when a decision or action produces considerable subsequent problems. edit- now Riki beat me! DAMMIT.

No worries, my fault for not checking your bio. I hardly describe everything my character is wearing (and aside from sneaking in little bits here and there I wouldn't recommend it anyways as my personal two cents), so don't feel like you did something wrong.

*holds up the can of worms* :twisted:

Ceeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelebrate good times, C'MON!

Allllso, I am unsure if Fejar is wearing just teh hood or if there is a cloak attached. If it is just a hood, lemme know and I will make the proper edits.

Vijako felt her gut abandon her for fairer pastures. His arm stuck out like a shark fin, all unwelcome and pointy, held with the assumption that she would act like a lady and take it. Truth was she wasn't as offended as she might appear, with her tail stiff and rigid behind her and her eyes narrow and crusty with sleep and less kind things. She was, of all things, highly uncomfortable with this new direction this strange man was taking. "No." Was the short of it, and she held out her hands so her palms faced him. "No." Was the long of it, too. She felt no need to coddle him -- she didn't coddle anyone for that matter -- and she'd let him feel the bruising of a fallen ego if it came to that, with little sympathy from her. If they were seen arm in arm she'd be seen for sure, especially since he was so eye-catching. But then she realized that could be put to her advantage. She fisted one hand on her hip and snapped the fingers of her other hand at him. "Give over. Yer cloak, give it. Quick like, I've a mind fer sleepin' since I ain't no sun kisser." Her voice was full of a deeper growl now that the guard had vacated the area, and she let him see the full of her grumpy, sleep deprived scowl.

I don't know why, but Marble House by The Knife does me in every time. In an almost creepy sort of way. I guess I should explain -- I was listening to pseudopod and I happened to hear this very, very moving short story. It was about this young man and woman who lived inside this great, giant building. No one had been able to go outside in generations. The top floors were full of aristocratic people who believed themselves superior in every way to the dirt crawlers in the lower floors. The top floors pretended to be happy, while they hid their pain and ugliness, where the lower floors embraced their pain and horrors. The top floor used beauty to inflict pain, where the lower floors smeared their filth so there was nothing clean left. They warred with each other, throwing bombs at each others' levels using the landings between floors. The man and woman had grandmothers who built a fragile friendship, and they continued it. It was a beautiful, haunting, disturbing short story. Marble House fits it perfectly. So perfectly it gives me chills. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-WhQ5TiBHVk I cut your nails and comb your hair I carry you down the stairs I wanted to see right through from the other side I wanted to walk a trail with no end in sight The moment we believe that we have never met Another kind of love it's easy to forget When we are all alone then we do both agree We have a thing in common this was meant to be You close my eyes and soothe my ears You heal my wounds and dry my tears On the inside of this marble house I grow And the seeds I sow will grow up prisoners too The moment we believe that we have never met Another kind of love it's easy to forget When we are all alone then we do both agree We have a thing in common this was meant to be Now where's your shoulder What is it's name What's your scent Say it again If it goes faster can you still follow me It must be safe when it's on TV I raise my hands to heaven of curiosity I don't know what to ask for What has it got for me? The others say we're hiding It's as forward as can be Some things I do for money Some things I do for free

Both of you are silly. ;P Your posts are great, don't worry about them being too short or too long. Write what needs to be written for the post. If that means it's only a sentence of dialogue, that's fine. If it means several paragraphs, cool. Have fun! I'm enjoying the rp with you guys!

GMT -9. I have more in common with Canada than I do with the lower 48, some days.

The urge for Viko to place a few fingers at her temple was almost, almost overbearing. "Was dark, yeah, big 'un took me from behind. Dint see none." She licked her lips and attempted a smile, sour as it might be. "Need t' be restin' -- rough night." She looked down at the shorter lalafell, and made a subtle get moving gesture with her hand. "I'd be wishin' t' help ya, real gaffin', but no chance t' look with 'im kickin' so hard." She gave the guard one last falsely sincere grimace, and turned back to Sweeper. She was sure eager to get out of there.

rotting. . .away. . .? D:

You know, is it feasible to make some of those names images? Just have the linkshells come up with a banner xx pixels by xx pixels so you dno't have to worry about all the text dealios. I know one of the admins at a pbp I go to did that for the title of the site so he didn't have to do extra work with font shiz.

Vijako was distressed, but she managed to keep her tail down to twitching. Her ears remained flat on her head. She didn't like where the mess was going at all. Why did there have to be a guard? They were never around when she could use them, but they always seemed to appear at the very worst moments to complicate what would otherwise be simple. And the lalafell. . .though the name 'Sweeper' seemed familiar somehow, Vijako was certain she'd not met the man before. His arrival and presence were suspicious, but he couldn't do wrong by her with the guard standing there. Especially not if she was the victim. "No need a poxy trinkets. Rinser n' sleep'll do me. Go by Ko, n' got fair drummed in a mugging, alright." The lalafell, she decided, might be of use. She recognized the street legitimacy in him, and if he was peddling items in that sort of alley. . .she rubbed her face self-consciously. She forced her ears partway up, though they flicked towards everyday noises out past the mouth of where they were standing. "Need a good place t' sleep. That I'll be a taker for, favors n' such." She slid a glance towards the guard, tense.

Okidokes, sounds good you guys! Don't worry if there's a bit of lag Tomcat -- we can wait.

Alright, we'll see what Tomcat and Daishi think of a posting order.

"N--" Her tail went rigid as she realized what they were doing, but it wasn't as if she could resist them. Godspit, she was stuck somehow with the compassionate, and it almost made her laugh at how naive they were. They hadn't helped her in the least. It was tradition in the lower bowels of the city that if you were beaten you let it heal naturally, or at least left the visible signs. If you did not, they who harmed would find and return for another. And every time you spat in their faces by healing it, they'd figure out other ways to make it stick. The worst part was that she herself was capable of healing and shielding others from harm; she hadn't done so because what she'd endured the night before would be nothing compared to what they might inflict next. But she couldn't say that to the guard, or to the other one. Though the guard likely knew it, by admitting she'd been beaten for aiding in underground conflict she'd as much as take herself to the skags and lock shut the door behind her. And she still had to go to the Jiver's Den, and to do that looking healthy and fit would be close to suicide. She pushed away from the wall, the guard, and Fejar. "Like as never hurt." She muttered. That was exactly the case. He'd reset Fikker's Crew's need to make an example out of her. She tried not to look at the guard, inwardly combating her exhaustion as she considered places that would be of use as a bolthole until the evening when she'd need to find the new location of the Den. "I'll off t'find meself a rinser now. . ." She bobbed her head agreeably to the two, and began to sidle away, resisting the urge to furiously scratch her belly. Without looking, she knew she'd been infested with fleas, again. ((I made a thread here viewtopic.php?f=5&t=555 for ooc shiz, I'm hoping Tomcat will let us know when he wants to jump in >> ))

I found a typo! . . .but that's all that I found wrong with it. Love the setup.

There was a Brian Sanderson book (forget the name, his newest one) where the bad guys hid in plain sight. A bad guy can do his own dirty work if he wants to (just not the typical way of subtle antagonists), but he'd have to be careful it never is shown to light, and if it is that it is construed as noble or necessary.

Also, I absolutely love the posts you guys have so far, even the one tomcat deleted.

rawr, here's the ooc so we can discuss whatever about the thread. Please post here if you want to join so no one sneaks in a post before you *coughcough* Thread is here: viewtopic.php?f=17&t=543 edit - you guys want a posti ng order? I usually do posting orders in threads cuz it's a bit more organized that way, but I'll leave it up to majority vote.