Well, I'm here to RP. I'd like some romance, but, it's certainly not required.
My idea has to do with pulling your character, created to exist here on modern Earth, into a fantastical world I've been working on for more years than I'd care to admit.
1: Be chill
2: Let me know when you can't post for a couple days.
3: I'll try to have a post every day/every other day. Life happens to us both.
4: I'm 21. It would be nice if you were 18+
5: Let's work on things together once you have a grasp of the presented world.
6: I like to RP through PM's as mature themes present themselves.
My idea has to do with pulling your character, created to exist here on modern Earth, into a fantastical world I've been working on for more years than I'd care to admit.
*Crunch... Crunch... Crunch...-* 'What an annoying sound.'- One would likely find themselves thinking, their world firstly enveloped by darkness before the company of ominous ambiance consumes their peaceful pondering. Telling's of forward momentum fill the gut as clarity begins growth. This wouldn't have been the first of Anora's familiar dreams, though it is most certainly more vivid than any previous trance. Of course, one must question whether they knew this to be a dream or not in the first place once beginning the immersion to soon be named.
*-Crunch... Crunch... Crunch...-* There was no time for frivolous query, sounds liken to gravel being trod upon once more populate immediate space. Cloth raiment lightly clasping either leg can be faintly recollected between what feel as trained steps inside complete shadow. 'I've been traveling awhile, haven't I?' This question somehow settles inwardly as relevant, yet one could hardly tell how. Strange enough, this wasn't troubling, when on common days it may indicate soreness or lack of rest.
Light suddenly splits surrounding gloom, ebony blankets giving way to vast arrays of profound and mythical hues of red and white. Clearer than ever before would be something of vibrant queerness. Yet, what's strangest of all is the clarity of it. Anora could likely say that this vision was of a deeper reality than her waking life, all five senses feeling stronger than ever observed; perhaps it was some drug to enhance one’s perception?
Before her now extends an endless field of white. Speckled pockets of black show her to be ambling across small ivory objects, this indicates her gravel-born steps. Said landscape was flat, it's crumbling surface hardly the first of many remarkable details. Several miles in every direction our landscape would end in spherical fashion, much like a cliff, as if one found themselves standing atop a massive disk-like platform. Of course, this wasn’t the most remarkable of things.
Far away and surrounding Anora from all angles would be massive, perfectly circular pillars larger than any man-made structure. This wasn't to say these pillars were shrunken by great distance, in fact, they could be tens-of-hundreds of miles away and yet they would appear to swallow entire flanks with their immeasurable girth. All pillars were of the same bleached shade as her current landscape and would each end somewhere far in the sky above. Some were facing straight upwards, others would be skewed and leaning as if somehow pushed partially over. They continued endlessly in number, a sea of these objects being shown to continue on as an ocean. There was no ground beneath them, we appeared to be far too elevated to observe any such thing as Earth. Perhaps we're at the relative peak of this place?
Regardless, another oddity would be the sky above. It was red, a deep and cloudless red. This didn't at all change the way other colors were perceived, the light above reflecting off objects as our natural Sun's light would. Looking down, Anora might also notice what she was walking upon wasn't gravel at all, but rather small fragments of assorted bone. Joints, cracked limbs, spinal disks, even small human skulls could be spotted in several choice locations. Yet, for some unknown reason, Anora's own body could not be perceived as if it were somehow out of focus with the rest of reality. Her limbs were all unable to be commanded aside from their constant aforementioned pace, continuing against all struggle of will.
*Grooooooom-rumble!* 'He's here.' Anora would find herself thinking as a distant quaking is registered against faint winds and relative silence. Such a thought felt only natural in response to said event.
*BOOM!* A massive human hand nearly dwarfing some of the surrounding pillars would suddenly shoot into the air before Anora's current place of standing several miles in the distance, it's titanic shadow consumes her, an open palm indicating action to soon grasp for any available ledge by slow and labored motion. It's skin ripples during slow descent, small humanoid mouths spewing crimson fluid crack open all across it's exterior surface. This is easily perceived, yet the rest of our gargantuan being remains hidden somewhere below. Danger is felt, flight or fight kicking in as waves of assorted human screams blast Anora backwards with one unstoppable shockwave. 'Shit! If I don't make the first move he'll-...
Her eyes would now open in real life, all visions ending completely as if they'd never occurred. Well, perhaps one should say 'as if they weren't currently occurring'. Either way, another day is to begin. Though, it's likely this day wouldn't be the same as most…
((I just reposted this from the first RP with a few minor edits as it still certainly applies to Anora.))
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
‘I’d open my eyes if you weren’t around...’ The words of an ambiguous lover plague one young man’s thoughts, his tired gaze awakened to view the swirling Earth about him. His left hand raises to place two fingers upon an aching cranium, both ligaments press and spin against either temple. Being roused from a park bench nap by regrettable memories is never on the pleasurable side of an agenda.
“S***..” He quietly utters aloud, distaste plain by tone of retired torment. He was bid to be here against all protest and complaint. ‘Earth, what a backwater planet..’ He finds himself thinking. Though his appearance certainly didn’t denote it, he had been to many a world besides our circular terra. One could argue that they were overly qualified to be on the errand this locale demands, that is, of course, if their superiors hadn’t violently rejected all arguments as this boy’s did.
His left hand finally falls from above overly pained eyes, their incessant blinks denoting an individual still adjusting to the early light of day. This same hand reaches deep into the pocket of his jeans whilst his hips twist in allowing an aching upper body to sit rightfully upwards. Eventually, and after much digging, one rectangular object similar to our modern-day smartphone is retrieved. This miniscule slab is held gingerly beneath our lads hunched form, it’s smooth surface reading several listed statements in shimmering white letters:
CANDIDATE DORSBY PROVISIONAL LOG
OBJECTIVE THREAT: KNIGHT2 - POTENTIAL THREAT: KAIZER9
CURRENT WORLD ROTARY CYCLE # 46
DUKE LIMITER - 4TH DEGREE (FULL CAMO)- 1:A 2:A 3:A 4:A
---Current Cycle Objective{s}---
-Suspected carrier B-3-P to appear in local area.
-Precise Coordinates TBD.
-Move towards Sherman Ave.
“S***..” He’d say again, sighing louder than necessary whilst standing upright from his seated position now to move away from what he’d have said to be ”One d*** lumpy bench.”.’Crack-pop-crack’ an out-of-sorts spine quakes in protest to sudden movement. Clumsy steps likened to an intoxicated individual fall to the earth beneath dilapidated sneakers. This boy’s left hand returns aforementioned slab to its respective pocket whilst he heads towards Sherman Ave., near the center of this city’s infrastructure. He’s in the process of tracking ‘Carrier B-3-P’, or as she’d be known on Earth, one Anora Rose Feldington.
*-Crunch... Crunch... Crunch...-* There was no time for frivolous query, sounds liken to gravel being trod upon once more populate immediate space. Cloth raiment lightly clasping either leg can be faintly recollected between what feel as trained steps inside complete shadow. 'I've been traveling awhile, haven't I?' This question somehow settles inwardly as relevant, yet one could hardly tell how. Strange enough, this wasn't troubling, when on common days it may indicate soreness or lack of rest.
Light suddenly splits surrounding gloom, ebony blankets giving way to vast arrays of profound and mythical hues of red and white. Clearer than ever before would be something of vibrant queerness. Yet, what's strangest of all is the clarity of it. Anora could likely say that this vision was of a deeper reality than her waking life, all five senses feeling stronger than ever observed; perhaps it was some drug to enhance one’s perception?
Before her now extends an endless field of white. Speckled pockets of black show her to be ambling across small ivory objects, this indicates her gravel-born steps. Said landscape was flat, it's crumbling surface hardly the first of many remarkable details. Several miles in every direction our landscape would end in spherical fashion, much like a cliff, as if one found themselves standing atop a massive disk-like platform. Of course, this wasn’t the most remarkable of things.
Far away and surrounding Anora from all angles would be massive, perfectly circular pillars larger than any man-made structure. This wasn't to say these pillars were shrunken by great distance, in fact, they could be tens-of-hundreds of miles away and yet they would appear to swallow entire flanks with their immeasurable girth. All pillars were of the same bleached shade as her current landscape and would each end somewhere far in the sky above. Some were facing straight upwards, others would be skewed and leaning as if somehow pushed partially over. They continued endlessly in number, a sea of these objects being shown to continue on as an ocean. There was no ground beneath them, we appeared to be far too elevated to observe any such thing as Earth. Perhaps we're at the relative peak of this place?
Regardless, another oddity would be the sky above. It was red, a deep and cloudless red. This didn't at all change the way other colors were perceived, the light above reflecting off objects as our natural Sun's light would. Looking down, Anora might also notice what she was walking upon wasn't gravel at all, but rather small fragments of assorted bone. Joints, cracked limbs, spinal disks, even small human skulls could be spotted in several choice locations. Yet, for some unknown reason, Anora's own body could not be perceived as if it were somehow out of focus with the rest of reality. Her limbs were all unable to be commanded aside from their constant aforementioned pace, continuing against all struggle of will.
*Grooooooom-rumble!* 'He's here.' Anora would find herself thinking as a distant quaking is registered against faint winds and relative silence. Such a thought felt only natural in response to said event.
*BOOM!* A massive human hand nearly dwarfing some of the surrounding pillars would suddenly shoot into the air before Anora's current place of standing several miles in the distance, it's titanic shadow consumes her, an open palm indicating action to soon grasp for any available ledge by slow and labored motion. It's skin ripples during slow descent, small humanoid mouths spewing crimson fluid crack open all across it's exterior surface. This is easily perceived, yet the rest of our gargantuan being remains hidden somewhere below. Danger is felt, flight or fight kicking in as waves of assorted human screams blast Anora backwards with one unstoppable shockwave. 'Shit! If I don't make the first move he'll-...
Her eyes would now open in real life, all visions ending completely as if they'd never occurred. Well, perhaps one should say 'as if they weren't currently occurring'. Either way, another day is to begin. Though, it's likely this day wouldn't be the same as most…
((I just reposted this from the first RP with a few minor edits as it still certainly applies to Anora.))
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
‘I’d open my eyes if you weren’t around...’ The words of an ambiguous lover plague one young man’s thoughts, his tired gaze awakened to view the swirling Earth about him. His left hand raises to place two fingers upon an aching cranium, both ligaments press and spin against either temple. Being roused from a park bench nap by regrettable memories is never on the pleasurable side of an agenda.
“S***..” He quietly utters aloud, distaste plain by tone of retired torment. He was bid to be here against all protest and complaint. ‘Earth, what a backwater planet..’ He finds himself thinking. Though his appearance certainly didn’t denote it, he had been to many a world besides our circular terra. One could argue that they were overly qualified to be on the errand this locale demands, that is, of course, if their superiors hadn’t violently rejected all arguments as this boy’s did.
His left hand finally falls from above overly pained eyes, their incessant blinks denoting an individual still adjusting to the early light of day. This same hand reaches deep into the pocket of his jeans whilst his hips twist in allowing an aching upper body to sit rightfully upwards. Eventually, and after much digging, one rectangular object similar to our modern-day smartphone is retrieved. This miniscule slab is held gingerly beneath our lads hunched form, it’s smooth surface reading several listed statements in shimmering white letters:
CANDIDATE DORSBY PROVISIONAL LOG
OBJECTIVE THREAT: KNIGHT2 - POTENTIAL THREAT: KAIZER9
CURRENT WORLD ROTARY CYCLE # 46
DUKE LIMITER - 4TH DEGREE (FULL CAMO)- 1:A 2:A 3:A 4:A
---Current Cycle Objective{s}---
-Suspected carrier B-3-P to appear in local area.
-Precise Coordinates TBD.
-Move towards Sherman Ave.
“S***..” He’d say again, sighing louder than necessary whilst standing upright from his seated position now to move away from what he’d have said to be ”One d*** lumpy bench.”.’Crack-pop-crack’ an out-of-sorts spine quakes in protest to sudden movement. Clumsy steps likened to an intoxicated individual fall to the earth beneath dilapidated sneakers. This boy’s left hand returns aforementioned slab to its respective pocket whilst he heads towards Sherman Ave., near the center of this city’s infrastructure. He’s in the process of tracking ‘Carrier B-3-P’, or as she’d be known on Earth, one Anora Rose Feldington.
1: Be chill
2: Let me know when you can't post for a couple days.
3: I'll try to have a post every day/every other day. Life happens to us both.
4: I'm 21. It would be nice if you were 18+
5: Let's work on things together once you have a grasp of the presented world.
6: I like to RP through PM's as mature themes present themselves.