Thank you for clicking on this interest check, I will do my best not to send you away screaming in abject horror. I’m pretty new to RP, I was on the old site for a mere month before it shut down. The same friend who introduced me to it initially suggested I get back to it. I was apprehensive at first, but now admit I am pretty excited at the prospect of restarting. I do not proclaim myself a pro. I’m still very new to the platform and I do apologise for my lack of experience. However I assure potential partners out there, I take pride in my writing and take it seriously. To me this is a hobby, but I feel you only get the most out of your hobbies if you put dedication and effort in to them. I’m quite into sci-fi and fantasy, but I thought since I am just getting back into it, a slice of life would be more manageable. If you want to know a little more about me as we go along writing, that’s fine, I’m open to the idea but I guess I'll just start with telling you I’m a 18+ male. So without further ado, I shall share my idea for a RP of questionable quality... Definitely open to input from you, that’s a huge part of the fun. Plot - MC is an international student going to YC's country for university\college after finishing two years of compulsory military service in his country. - He comes from a wealthy family and his parents expect nothing short of excellence. - While MC's parents are pretty open about what field of study their son goes into, they expect him to come out on top. MC equates success with the love he receives from his parents. - He is very filial and he is plagued with the idea that it is completely normal to live for other people. - MC is confident but a bit of a recluse; he understands the world in slightly unorthodox ways. - While he acknowledges his sexuality, he does not feel a huge need to publicize it, his parents do not know about it nor do they care to know. - He has been burnt by one night stands and a lack of connection. Yet he is afraid of giving into the tide of love, defences are up and the walls built are hard to tear down. - He is interested in the arts, especially theatre. He however denies these feelings most of the time, believing it shifts his focus too much. YC I’m pretty okay with you coming up for the specifics of YC and making him your own, however it would be really cool to play with opposites on some level. I believe it creates good conflict that makes a RP really fun. I was thinking the plot could start out with: - MC being mugged before he enters the campus grounds, losing all his identification. - MC is at a complete lost as to what to do being a stranger in a strange land. YC for his owb motives whatever they may be, helps MC out. - Friendship progresses into something more and both of our characters learn things from each other that make them better people. Again, completely up for changes to this and we can flesh it out together in the beginning and as we progress. Post length I kind of like longer posts but then again the main point is character development. If you feel you can do that in two paragraphs I’m not going to hold that against you, but generally I go for about 4-7 paragraphs per post depending. Graphic nature? Sure I don’t mind it getting graphic, as long as it adds to the characters and plots though. If the RP call for it, let’s go right ahead. Privacy I’m a private person by nature, I would feel much better if this was done through PMs instead of an open thread. Response rate If I can help it I would like to respond with at the very least one post every two days, ideally once a day or more. However I understand life has a nasty habit of catching up on you. Keep in communication with me, let me know if you have circumstances that would prevent regular replies. I definitely won’t hold it against you. I will do the same on my side. Do drop me a message if you are interested :) Let me know if i missed out anything in this interest check that concerns you. Thanks for taking a read! [hider=A writing sample.]Izakaya Chapter 1 He used to joke about feeling the wind in his hair as he rode, which was a lie (of course) because he always wore a helmet. In the great chaotic aftermath of a crash, the boy emerged while submerged in an endless dream - now hooked up to a life-sustaining unit, while his girlfriend sat at his bedside reading a King James Version Bible. She glances up when I enter the hospital room, looking at me with her dull, greyish-brown eyes. I note the sea of black un-removed eyeliner and eye bags on her, and her smile pasted on with the effort of picking up a heavy leather-bound suitcase. “Good to see you, Jonah.” Sophia greets me, her voice an instrument out of tune. “I’m sorry. I tried to get an earlier flight, but -” “There’s no need for apologies, Jonah. Some things are out of our control.” She looked down at her Bible for a moment, then turned her gaze to Hajime. Hajime was almost as pale as those daikon radishes he used to peel for fun, and he mimicked their thinness and translucency well. “You know how much he ate, Jonah.” “He never gained a thing from it, though,” I murmured, trying to muster up a laugh from her. My attempt failed. “After he stopped eating regularly, I guess it was more or less natural for him to waste away.” I stepped into the room, cautious of breaking the calm that had settled over the space - it was just me, her, and the occupied bed. I considered putting a hand on her shoulder, but decided against it in the end. I was probably the person who could understand best what she was feeling, but I was as distant from her as the sun is from the other stars. In the end, she broke the silence first. “How was Japan?” “What did the doctors say?” I asked in return. Sophie placed the Bible she had been holding on the side table next to her, massaging her temples with long, slender fingers. Her fingernails were previously painted black with polish, but now short and plain. Hajime had always said that he didn’t like women with black nail polish. It was one of his quirks, I suppose - I hoped I would hear him say it again. Her answer came in the form of a forceful exhalation. “Well, it’s obvious that he’s in a coma, but as for when he’ll awake - they didn’t say. If he ever wakes up, that is… That idiot! I told him, I told him to quit riding. I…” Some truck of her emotions must have smashed into her. In the aftermath of this collision, I should have comforted her - that was the time to reach out a hand and touch her shoulder, and yet I did not. I stood there, unmoving, listening to her cry. # I met Hajime during my days in the Millenium Institute, an international school for those aged thirteen to eighteen. Economic hardship was a mere memory for me by then, but it was during those days that loneliness crept up upon me. It is presumptuous of me to speak of loneliness as the pinnacle of all problems, especially when there are too many people starving - but I have experienced both, and the former is by far the worse. A body can be fed, with the sole problem being the procurement of physical nourishment - feeding the soul is far more difficult. It was my belief (at the time) that loneliness was what all human beings had to go through. I believed that it was the price of existence, though it was an un-fillable void. That changed when I got to know Hajime. While he couldn’t make loneliness go away entirely, he allowed me to go on. People confuse living with existing often. Existing is sustaining the body with breath and food, but living is sustaining the soul with things to fill the void. Hajime was nothing like me. He was boisterous and warm, and friendly with everyone while I was the “weird kid” that he hung out with. Once, while in Millenium, I asked him why he would associate himself with me. “You wouldn’t understand even if I told you,” he replied simply. “Try me,” I taunted. “Jonah, you understand logic. But you won’t understand why I hang out with you with logic alone.” “You underestimate me!” I tried. Was I mocking him? I don’t know. “You underestimate yourself,” Hajime said, fully serious. # No one had ever told me that I thought too little of myself. If anything, others always said that I overestimated myself - my parents, for one, went on and on about how I was too smart for my own good. It wasn’t my fault that they couldn’t understand me, but Hajime’s friendship allowed me to cease blaming them for not doing so. In any case, now was the time to step up and comfort Sophia, or grieve along with her - but I could not. The emotions within me were not stagnant, but those torrents of feeling froze and crystallized, too solid to flow out of my eyes. It was a good fifteen minutes before Sophia stopped crying. She must have picked up the Bible at some point, I dimly realised, as she released in from her clutches in favour of retrieving a packet of tissue from her handbag. As she dried her eyes, I watched the tissue dye itself black as though Sophia’s eyeliner and mascara had bled upon it. “Jonah, please sit. It feels too strange if I’m the only one with a seat,” she said after a minute or two had passed. I obliged. “Didn’t anyone else want to come and visit?” She got up and disposed of the tissues in the wastebasket. “Zhen Qiang came, of course. With Hajime in this condition, he’s the only one keeping the Izakaya running.” “Hajime would have wanted that,” I replied numbly “You know he would have.” I stood up and put my rucksack in the corner of the room, then re-positioned my chair to face Sophia directly. “I can’t bear to see him like this,” I said, by way of explanation upon seeing her perplexed countenance. “I’m not ready to look at him. I’m sorry, I know it’s weird-” “Please, don’t apologise. I don’t really comprehend it, but I can understand.” Some things remained the same, I suppose, like the dissonance in Sophia’s speech. Looking into her eyes, I saw that they were bloodshot, hinting at her sleep-deprived state. It had been four days since the accident, and I looked over at Hajime properly for the first time since entering his hospital room. He had turned so sullen and so pale within these four days, like death’s own lanky child. Hajime ate so much of life, I supposed, that being apart from it for awhile must have drained him. Sophia met my eyes as I glanced away. “I’m sorry, I should have called you sooner. I was in quite a state for the first two days - I’ve been here since the accident, and I just feel so tired and lost…” “You don’t need to explain anything to me, Sophia. I’m not angry at you.” I should have been angry, though. Why would this happen to Hajime, of all people? Didn’t that god of his see how good a person Hajime was? How good a person Hajime is, I corrected myself, but Sophia’s weeping derailed my thoughts. “This is my fault, it’s all my fault! I left my thumbdrive at the Izakaya and I had a review due. I asked Hajime if he could email it to me, but he said that the shop’s computer was down so he got on his bike and… I’m so stupid,” she sobbed. I grabbed her hands, pulling them towards me. “Sophia, listen to me. Did you ask him to ride over? No, you didn’t. Did you ask that truck driver to be a reckless piece of shit? No, you didn’t. And you weren’t on the town council that put that lamp post there either. I cannot understand how you think this is your fault.” I looked away from her watery eyes, gaze darting to the Bible on the side table. I cannot understand how you don’t blame him, I thought, but I left it unsaid. Her weak chuckle was a welcome relief from the sound of her sobs. “Always the man of logic, Jonah.” I didn’t know if that was a compliment or not. Giving my hands a final squeeze, she took back her hands and arranged them neatly on her lap. “Has Uncle come to visit?” I asked. “No, Mr. Takahashi hasn’t visited.” “Typical of him,” I muttered. “They don’t have the warmest relationship, but I thought this would make him snap out of his perpetual hate,” Sophia said, her words spiteful. “He’s an old man, and part of the old guard,” I tried to explain. Unfortunately, I sometimes saw portions of him mirrored in me. “Hajime’s mother came. In secret, of course, with his sister.” “Eriko and Aunty came to see Hajime?” “Sometimes they come to the shop too, but they told me not to tell you about it. You’re terrible at keeping secrets!” I could not help but laugh a little at that, though worried at my impropriety. For a moment, the mood lightened a little as I remembered how Hajime always used to draw the laughter out of us, but it sobered up quickly as I remembered that he was in a coma now. “Sophia, please go home and sleep,” I suggested. “No, I have to stay here and…” Her words sounded like a token protest, though her depth of feeling and sincerity were plain. I took a chance on a gentle jab. “I’m surprised the nurses haven’t chased you out.” “My Dad works here, so I told them that they would be fired if they made me leave.” Foiled by Miss Fry, I tried again. “Sophia, you need to go home and sleep. I can stay here to look after Hajime. You know he wants you to remain healthy,” I entreated, hoping that she would see the sense in it. Thankfully, she capitulated. She pressed the button for medical assistance, bringing forth a nurse who came in with a clipboard. “Yes, Miss Fry?” “You will let this man stay as long as he wants, or you’ll have to answer to Dr. Fry. Do you understand me?” I saw a frisson of fear run through the nurse’s face, and I felt a pang of sympathy for her. Sophia really could be a tyrant, sometimes. “No problem, Miss Fry!” I waved a hand dismissively. “There’s no need for that, I’ll leave when visiting hours are over.” “No, Jonah, you will leave whenever you want to!” Sophia snapped, grabbing her Prada handbag and standing up in one fluid move. She levelled another glare at the nurse, who dared to nod tremulously before speedwalking away. She leaned in to kiss my cheek after I reluctantly nodded, though I never understood why she did it. “You take care of him, Jonah,” she said. As she left the room, she seemed to revert to the lifeless state I had first seen her in, the sudden burst of energy gone. Take care of Hajime? But I couldn’t even take care of myself… [/hider]