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6 yrs ago
My guinea pig has gone on to the great hay pile in the cosmos. I’ll miss him.
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6 yrs ago
So I got married today
21 likes
6 yrs ago
My fiance just told me he ate my left over slice of pie. This engagement is over.
5 likes
6 yrs ago
If you're nocturnal, every day is the day you sleep.
6 likes
6 yrs ago
I don't know anything about Mahz, but I'd ~really~ like to have that vacation time off from work. (That banner has been there a while, yeah? =P)
17 likes

Bio

  • 18+ = RP Partner Must Be 18+
  • Female, writes MxM, FxM, FxF
  • My Typical Response Time (minimum) = One to two days for OOC, RPs could vary but will respond at least once a week, probably more.
  • Typically High-Cas, sometimes Advanced. Can do Casual though it's painful.
  • Friendly = OOC always chatty if partner wants
  • Roleplaying Limits = will not do torture, rape/molestation, etc actively. My characters might have it in their past though.
  • I like romance. I like depressing romance with a happy ending the best. Slow burns are usually preferred, unless otherwise specified.
  • If there is romance, I'm ok with fade-to-black or giving details.
  • Romance isn't necessary to write with me.
  • Respecting the individuality of our characters is necessary to write with me.


1x1 Interest Checks

Most Recent Posts

Holiday Alternate Universe RP 2021


Born to Fly - Pt 1




Penelope Randell lay back against the warm canyon rock, enjoying what little breeze came her way from the height towering over an expanse of desert. Hazel eyes watched the peregrine soaring away from the outcropping she’d spotted it nesting in, wonder at how majestic the bird was filling her mind. How would it feel to spread her arms and let the wind carry her up, to sail through the sky then swoop down in a dive. Exhilarating.

“Nel, get back over here!” The frustrated demand from behind her made her realize she’d stood and walked to the edge of the cliff, arms up. Innocent, young eyes turned back, round with sadness at being scolded by her older sister. “Sorry, Helen…”

She was all but five, and her older sister at twelve knew better and was always looking out for her. So of course little Nel shuffled back to the circle Helen and her parents were making camp for the night. They’d traveled all the way to Regina just to see the stars - something Helen didn’t understand since they could see them anywhere. They flew through them just to get here.

“Aw, Nel, just stay away from the cliff’s edge, honey.” Her mother said softly as she wrapped her arms around the pouting little girl. “Your sister wasn’t getting onto you.”

“Yes, I was!” Helen retorted, only to get a playful wack of brush to her arm. “Hey, that’s scratchy, Dad!”

“I was just being like the bird, Mama.” Penelope said as tears threatened. “I know I can’t really fly though. I ain’t got no wings.”

“Sure you do, Nel,” Her father said as he dropped the pile of sticks and brush before getting to sorting them. Instead, he knelt down and poked his little girl in the chest just so. “Right in there. And one day, you’ll figure out how to use them.”

“How about you make the fire instead of trying to get my little bird to leave the nest too soon?” Penelope giggled as her mother wrapped her arms tighter around her little body, pulling her away protectively with an emphatic kiss to the top of her head.

Later that evening, she lay on her sleeping bag alongside her sister, listening to the fire crack as it died down. Helen turned suddenly, so Penelope turned her eyes from the stars to look at her older sister with a smile. It faltered when she saw the cross look being sent her way. “What is it, Hel?”

“How come you have to be so full of nonsense, Pen? I wanted a normal sister, you know, not one that talks about being a bird or making friends with toads.” That hurt, even for a little five year old who didn’t fully understand how much resentment was in her sister’s tone. What she knew was Helen was mad at her, and she’d been real mad at her a lot lately. She tried to make it up to her, brought her things she made from stuff she found, but ever since the last time when Helen slapped it away, Penelope hadn’t made anything new.

“I’m sorry, Hel.” She said, more concerned with how angry she’d made her sister instead of how the words hurt. “What can I do to be a better little sister?”




The music of The Underworld hummed and pulsed to the delicious haze enhancing Penelope’s first club-going experience. Her rainbowed metallic hoops spun about her wrists as they moved with the sea of bodies too lost in rhythm and movement. Somehow, she’d left though, and was sitting in a booth with people she didn’t recognize, laughing and drinking. Words were shouted above the blended sounds, a conversation she couldn’t follow. Another round! She took the shot between her styled nails, glinting off the overhead beams when the light hit just right, and threw it back.

Her friends had regrouped and pulled her along, out into the too cold night for what little they were all wearing. Penelope tugged at her lime green fur coat, but it did nothing for her bare legs the latex skirt didn’t come close to covering. Wind blew, and her friend screeched while huddling altogether as she winced her faux lashes shut against the sound and chill. They laughed and carried on, university students brave and fearless. Recklessly so.

Halfway back to the dormitories, the girls stopped because their ringleader was punking in an alley. Her second-in-command had the job of holding back the shocking purple and silver locks, and the other two were tasked with keeping an eye on their little wanderer. Unfortunately, an argument broke out in regards to the cute guy at the club and who he had really been checking out.

Penelope found herself standing atop a building, her stiletto heels cast aside as she stood up on the edge. Music still played somewhere, she could hear it as she looked skyward, unable to see a star in the sky. The green coat had slipped down her arms, pooling at the sleeves so it remained caught on her elbows. The wind here was still, tunneled between the buildings below, but the music of it coursing through was what had her attention now. A bag drifted high above the nearly empty streets below, thrashed this way and that.

“Hey, little bird, why not step back from that ledge you’re on?” Most people would have jerked, surprised - and if she hadn’t had so much alcohol in her system, delaying her response, she might have as well. But big arms wrapped around her middle and pulled her back. She might have laughed. As her head rested against a large shoulder without a visible concern at the situation, she sighed a sad smile. “A bird? I haven’t seen a bird in years.”




“She has great reflexes, sir.” Penelope stood quietly with her hands clasped behind her back, listening to Axel give her field report to their garrison leader. “Her slight build does not do well for hand-to-hand, but her perceptual ability makes her a shoe-in for long range. Target practice could do with some improvement, but when we put a sniper rifle in her hands she saw things rarely noticed in previous recruit’s simulation runs.”

Penelope glanced at her mentor, his big frame was blocking the view of the chief, but she didn’t mind. It wasn’t Rollins’ approval she ever sought. Hearing Axel give the assessment without any admiration meant nothing, the fact that he was highlighting her skills was what surprised her. Every day at training, it was hard-ass steel. Never encouragement or a word of praise when she did well.

The pampered city girl had to be broken out of her - and when she realized that, everything turned around. That girl that was caught in a black out zone of Osiris was gone. Here stood a trained assassin. Or, one in the works.

The tell that she wasn’t quite so passive had been when Axel gave his recommendation. “If we can get her to another base, maybe a Xuan Wu location, we can see about flight training.”

“Really?” She spoke out of turn, getting a hard look from those shale eyes as Axel turned to glance over at her. Penelope pressed her lips to stop the smile as she cast her eyes downward.

Without looking up at her mentor, she knew he’d turned his gaze back on his commander before he continued speaking. That’s just how he was - in an official capacity. “We’re short on pilots doing the runs now that a whole circuit got clipped by the Alliance in Red Sun.”

“Yes, but can your little bird actually fly if you let her out of that cage you’ve kept her in so long?” The curt clip of Rollins’ snear got Penelope’s hazel eyes peeking back up. The woman never liked her, and in truth, it was mutual. “Song birds aren’t fighters, Axel.”

“This one is.” Axel said, a hand going to his covered forearm. Penelope knew that beneath it was a ragged scar from the night he’d captured her, teeth and nails tore so deep he needed stitches. That got her ‘talons’ broken off painfully with a set of pliers. Ever since, she kept her nails short and natural. “But more importantly, we need fliers - ones that aren't full of fear the first time they strap in. I’m thinking the one moon orbiting Zeus. We can leave out tomorrow, on your order.”

“We, Heroux?” Penelope could picture that thin brow lifted, her own head tilting further up as curiosity was getting the better of her. “You’re trading the cage for a tether. So be it - take the girl. If she dies in the crash course, it won’t be a great loss.”
Hey~ I've been away on vacation. But, I think I will have to drop this. I over-estimated my ability to function and RP with a small child. Since this was the last thing I joined, I'll use this to graciously (ha) drop out. And @Dark Cloud seems keen, so yay! Great timing. Good luck everyone~




When the China Doll was steady on the ground, landing gear deployed to prop her up for a nice nap, her pilot sat idle in the seat looking out the view port at the great city all around. Oddly enough, Penelope felt nothing. Had the jungle been visible, it might have had a different effect, the landing.

As it was, she sighed, and leaned back in her seat. Likely the cargo was being unloaded, the captain going about moderating, and the doctor maybe getting her patient they scooped up from the blue a final check. The passengers were departing for their endeavors on her homeworld, the Skye siblings making their great plans as well. And here she sat, listening to the sounds of the ship and echoes coming through her corridors, too faint to make out.

"Are you not going to disembark on your homeworld?" Sam must've been listening to her and the Captain's departing comments on landing, logging that only one had exited the flight deck.

"Sure am. The Cap'n and I have a party on the books." She grinned at the empty room, feeling Sam filled it all around. "Might take a day trip with the sibling trio when they go seein' the sites."

"Is there nothing you want to see?" Sam asked a hum of her whirring later.

Penelope folded her still-mittened hands behind her head and looked at the roof of metal separating her from the sky. "Oh, there is plenty. Talkin' with Cyd last night got me right primed for a Jungle Walk."

"Then why do you remain?" The question was pure genuine curiosity, simply to understand the illogical human action of inactivity despite known factors.

"Reckon I worry I might not make it back." Penelope said, smile touching her lips. "Wouldn't be right. Not after all the Cap'n's done for me."

"I do not understand." Sam said after a moment, sounding far more like the artificial intelligence that she was even though her voice was perfectly humanesque.

"I ain't set foot on Greenleaf in quite some time, Sam. Don't know if three days will be enough. Or too much." She sat forward, rolling with the motion after a moment, then got to her feet. "Won't hurt to at least watch the fish go, though. Warm up as the ramp opens."
Greetings from Colorado! I hope you're all doing lovely and Monday won't be too awful to you tomorrow.

I've been reading throughout the day, and we can just scratch anything Pen made up. I didn't know there was pre-existing lore the group experienced on Greenleaf, or really anything about the planet aside from the barebones listed on a wiki. It's totally fine with me. Sorry for creating chaos in my wake; it was unintentional.

So far we have played some serious games of Mario Party and it's been great since we are all lacking sleep for various reasons. Hilarity ensued. I'll definitely be able to check in since we are all planning on just hanging out for the most part, low-key vaca is perfect for me. ^^
Welcome, Dan the Second. Or Dan 2.0 ... Working title, especially since other Dan has said he may be terminated now.

Anywho, nice to meet ya! Excited for a new face to pick up on Greenleaf. 🤗
Chillin' in the Roost


JP/Collab with @wanderingwolf




The cold had not taken long at all to settle in once they’d broken through atmo. Once the course was plotted and everything looked green, Penelope was free to release the control and slip her earth-toned kaleidoscopic sweater over the faux leather and suede motorcycle jacket she’d put on before take-off from Pensacola. The slouch knit beanie was added over her ears right after, and matching mittens tugged on over her trademark fingerless leather gloves. When she was finished, her legs were pulled up under her with the dark green weighted blanket wrapped over the shawl about her shoulders and her quilt piled on top of that. The blankets had been folded back so her arms were free to assess the shirt that sat in her lap, though they too were covered in the bundle.

It was the one she’d picked up for Abby. A purple tourist t-shirt, akin to what the girl had sported a time or two... without the tagline. As was every gift from the hands-on crafter, Penelope’s discerning eye was considering adding pizzazz. The tri-color sunset color-scheme filling the bubbled lettering of ‘Pensacola’ took up the majority of the display, its white cursive above it ‘Welcome to’ written with space to justify balancing it out with something at the bottom. It’d been a while since she’d stitched, and she couldn’t quite do it without her fingers free, but considering - well, that was another thing. Since she was a visual person, she liked to put her eyes on a project, to feel it, too.

She wasn’t particularly worried about the repercussions of questioning the captain. Again. So soon. And it wasn’t that she was feelin’ particularly defiant or self-satisfied. Penelope was the type to know when something was coming, and know there was no sense frettin’ till it did. She’d also made a habit of not doin’ anything she wasn’t ready hold, convictions and all. Savin’ a near-drowned and frozen man didn’t sit wrong with her, no matter how she looked at it, and so she could easily be more concerned about what exactly she wanted to add to the t-shirt so it was meaningful.

His pilot, balancing on the cockpit chair with a mountain of blankets and a faded rainbow beanie sitting atop the pile, had something laying across her lap. As the captain sidled up beside her seat, blowing breath into his hands, the purple shirt adorned in colors and stitches styled from decades gone, came into view. Knowing her, Penelope was seeing the ‘what could be’ in this particular number. It still smarted that he hadn’t yet received something by her hand to date, but he held back the grumble in his voice as best he could as he thumbed the sleeve. “Who’s the lucky recipient this time, Freckles?” He took a leaning seat on the console opposite her, his eyes passing over her bright shot of orange hair and her understated choice of earrings this go-round.

"This 'beaut' is for Abbs." Penelope said, adopting the local terminology from its displayed destination. She looked up then, grin plain. " Reckon you're gonna say I'm spoilin' her, but maybe you can help with the slogan that's missin'? Somethin' to commentate her time planetside."

“Oh yeah, what’s the occasion; shell and a shirt? Shoot!” He blew into his hands again, wearing only his regular get-up, duster and plaid shirt buttoned to the throat. At Penelope’s glance he replied, “She wouldn’t stop talkin’ about that shell.” Thinking for a moment, he added, “Ought to read somethin’ about secret rendezvous and slippin’ about in the dark, if you ask me.”

"You know about that, too." The sly hint in her tone wasn't a question, and left no room for surprise. Penelope wondered how much of an eye their captain kept on the place, and this exchange answered that curiosity. Of course, she wasn't the one who'd left against doctor's orders and had 'secret rendezvous', as Cal had put it. After all, Penelope had only left room for imagination when she shared her own plans that night. Seems they both caught Abby in hers though. "Got to use it now, then."

Her eyes went back down to the shirt, considering a moment before glancing back up with a brighter smile. "I'll let ya know what I come up with. Meantime, how's the patient? Doc gettin' 'em warmed up despite the icebox we put 'em in?"

Cal nodded, “Man’s just about the luckiest marooner in the seven suns, thanks to you lot. ‘Magin he’s recoverin’ under Doc’s care as we speak.” He blew into his hands again, casting a furtive glance over Pen’s mountain of blankets, then out the Doll’s eyes. The black was somehow blacker on this trip, but he had a good feeling about this buyer on Greenleaf. “How’re we lookin’, Sam? On course to keep us from freezin’ to death?”

Not having to worry about the external temperature too much, at least at this level, Sam whirred along in her spot below doing whatever it was she did while not in conversation. But she was always attentive. It only took a moment for her to process an answer to the question Cal asked, though likely involved some time in the Cortex given the response. "We are set to arrive as scheduled. If you maintain your internal temperature by wearing appropriate clothing and consuming warm liquid, you will not freeze, Cal."

"I would lend you a blanket, but I never got the last one I leant out back and the need is more dire now, Cap'n." Penelope said as she burrowed down in the mound so only her dancing eyes shone out in amusement. "Can smell coffee minglin' with that fish smell waftin' this way though. If ya ain't gonna chew Sam an' me out for naggin', might be a good idea to take up her advice on gettin' a warm liquid."

"And procure protection for exposed skin - mild frostbite can settle in at this temperature." Though Penelope knew Sam was not poking fun as she had been, she was glad the blanket she'd tucked down into hid her lips from the smile the AI's additional advice. The additional note proved that Sam did access the camera, but it was more humorous than concerning to the pilot. "If you continue to blow moisture on your palms, the vapor will freeze in this air."

Captain Strand narrowed his eyes at the two beady ones his used pilot to peer out amongst her warm mountain. “I’m smellin’ somethin’ on this bridge, alright; somethin’ akin to insubordination...” Still, his narrow eyes followed the smell of coffee toward the galley. “Anyhow, don’t you two ladies worry about me. A captain’s got ways of keepin’ warm,” his eyes relaxed, replaced by a smirk. That is, until he considered that Alana might be tied up all trip reviving their stowaway. Then his lips soured.

He blew in his hands defiantly before pitching himself off his perch on the console. “Might go see what our passengers are up to--captain’s gotta play the good host, afterall. Be there if you need me afore you show up yourself.” He eyed her blankets, gauging how cold she’d be under it all.

There was a slight innocent look to the tilt of her head, but those eyes of hers always got her in trouble. She grinned beneath the fabric, and pulled her hands free without getting any cold air in her cozy little bundle. "Cap'n - a gift."

The knit gloves. They were held out, maybe as a peace offering in all their light banter. "Don't count though - didn't make 'em. I'll be sure to weave in some shimmer when I do yours up."

If she still had doubts about this ship and its captain, Penelope would be hard-pressed to find any. Plus, she was having fun now. Even if it were too damn cold for her. But she had her mounds of blankets to tuck her hands away in, and would do so the second the captain took those gloves. Wouldn't be much longer till she found herself moseying on towards the offered warmth of the shuttle, but for now she sat.

Cockeyed, Cal considered the offering, “Uh-huh, not sure I’m the shimmerin’ type-uh guy. All the same, if’n it’ll quiet down Sam, I’ll take ‘em off your hands.” He pulled one on and held it out to survey. The brightly colored yarn made him look a shade more feminine than he liked, even if he didn’t sport the matching beanie on Penelope’s head. Not one to wallow in the moment, Captain Strand made for the door, patting his mittens together as he went.

Penelope's eyes glinted still from the depths of the blanket she'd pulled over top the beanie once the captain took the mittens. She'd remember that anecdote, though she hadn't been serious about the shimmer. Her eyes fell back down to the shirt in her lap and smirked to herself, knowing what would be stitched on when she had use of her hands again. In the meantime, she reached out only long enough to fold the shirt back and toss it gently atop her satchel that sat nearby in its 'spot'.

She'd looked out the port view and sighed. Greenleaf. She was finally going home. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been there a time or two before. Since Jun, since they were dumped out on its forest floor. But, she wasn’t Penelope during those visits. She wasn’t even sure she was Penelope now, really. Talking with Cal had helped figure out some of it - stuff she didn’t even know she was holding on to, stuff she hadn’t thought through because of not wanting to address anything that had happened since then.

Way I see it, your conscience is liable to keep you from the very thing you crave.

So her initial plan was scratched. It’d been decided as the words left her lips to ask Cal if he knew how to go about getting her a fake ID. No alliance shackles for her. Part of her past that she was leaving there still nagged though - bit at her soul. That must have been survivor guilt. There were no reparations that could be made to make it better. Where would she even start?

No, it’d have to be something to live with - even if she hadn’t chosen any of it. It’d taken that conversation with her new captain to make her see that. It hadn’t been her choice, all that happened. She’d blamed herself instead of accepting that. But, it was time to do it.

To Penelope Randell, the barefoot who left her past in the past, and the pilot who braved the storm for that silver lining.

She smiled, just as she had when Cal had said it. There was still a lot to figure out, in her own time, but at least she had faith she could now. Better than to give up.

“The internal temperature of the China Doll is holding steady at 20 degrees.” Sam’s voice cutting through the coldness had her hazel eyes lifting from the unfocused gaze towards the panels as she’d been mulling things over. “Are you not cold, Penelope? I understand that humans find this temperature uncomfortable.”

“You’re right - it’s mighty uncomfortable. Don’t like the cold, actually, but this all I got piled on is doing a good job of keepin’ my heat in. I’d be cold just about anywhere onboard so I’d rather stay here and keep you company for the flight.” Penelope answered with the smile back in her tone for truth, then she frowned as a thought struck her. “Hey, Sam - how come you were so quiet the other night when Cal and me were talkin’ about everythin’?”

“I may be non-human, but I do know when it’s rude to interrupt a personal conversation.” Sam sounded a little proud of that, and slightly offended at having been asked. It made Penelope smile again, chuckle even so little puffs of air escaped where she’d pulled the shawl up over her face.

“Ain’t never said you weren’t polite, but that’s a true testament, it is.” She said when she recovered, careful not to let the blankets move since the cold touched anywhere it could with those icy, invisible tendrils all around. “How ‘bout you tell me how ya pinpointed our newest passenger, then? Ain’t rude of me to ask, is it? Don’t have the know-how on artificial intelligent persons.”

"I will, if you agree to shelter with the passengers in the shuttle." Sam replied after a moment, getting a grin out of Penelope. It wasn't just the captain, then, that was within Sam's ability to show concern for. And so she did, both holding up their end of the bargain. Penelope gathered up her blankets about her once Sam concluded her tale by promising to call if anyone is needed in the flight deck. Bundled so that not a hint of her was visible besides the eyes, Penelope shuffled towards the door then carefully went down the steps to the hall and on to the galley. Hook had cooked up a storm, the scents mingling with the fish odor, but Penelope could barely smell it thanks to the wrappings about her face.

The desire for warmth over food won out though, and she continued onward.






New method of IC, same thread.
At being addressed by the barbarian full of bravado, Rinx's elven guise downcast her eyes in favor of the zither, her long fingers running just above the spider-silk strings. Quietly, to herself mostly though she'd not hidden her words with any effort, she'd given her light, airy opinion. Likely, the words were tainted with the way she'd been addressed, whether taking offense at the after-thought or the question at her willingness to seek out stories. "It would do no good to know if I were counted amongst the dead either, I think."

Her eyes flashed momentarily over to the teifling who's thoughts seemed to align with her own, his true smirk touching the fair elven lips at the 'dirge' comment. In a fair bit of humor, the delicate elven fingers strummed a few sad chords belonging to a funeral precession by way of tuning. When the human chimed into their conversation, however, she was a little more keen. "It may not be the stuff grand tales are made of, but even giant slayers have to start with a pittance quest or two, like seeking lost souls. One could never know what nefarious villain is at the root unless they seek it out."

Still non-committal, but Rinx knew there was likely more coin in adventuring than solely singing and playing for the miserable folks in this village. And he did actually enjoy his craft, even if it was mostly another face for his true goal. It seemed his contact did not know he had arrived, so he might as well do something to busy himself in the meantime aside from playing daily at the mead hall. Though the gnome was a little more earnest than he cared for, the teifling was reasonable. These others, he wasn't sure, but that part of the fun?
Ah, sorry, I missed Rinx's reply opportunity. If I have time tonight, I'll see if he can add something.
"What an excellent tale that would make." Verbally on the heels of the human who had come into the mead hall, the bard spoke up from a nearby table. Rinx still continued to wear the female elf guise and spoke speculatively as 'she' idly plucked at her zither atop the table, musing on the morning gloom and how to best address it profitably when the familiar teifling had returned. It had been a late morning for Rinx, and so he had not yet had breakfast. At least while awaiting its delivery, something entertaining had happened. "Two intrepid traveler, wary from the frost-lidden road serendipitously cross paths and form a pact to slay a giant and save a town from their strife. I'd be curious to see how that plays out."
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