BangoSkank

It has been many years since I've roleplayed, but I need to learn how to write creatively again.

Hey look here, down below, there's A Guide For New Users With A Ridiculously Long Name, I did it all by myself with absolutely no help or involvement from anyone else at all.

Not really. It was a group effort and the folks involved are credited in it, but do look at the little guide to getting started thing. It's the second yellow link in my signature at the bottom of this post. Or if you just want a grip of writing prompts check out:

roleplayerguild.com/topics/188422-cha…

It's a series of questions like...

- What do you like to do for fun?
- What qualities do you like in a person?
- If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
- What is your favorite food, and why?
- Who's had the biggest influence on your life?

and a bunch of posts of Writers answering those questions as their characters.

I'm too old

I know what you mean. A lot of the user base here are just kids, at whatever age, but there are a good number of older writers and just good ass writers. You definitely have to kind of suss out who is who but there are plenty of folks.

Sites not dead but it has lost a ton of users and a lot of the users still here don't actually RP anymore. Many reasons for that, none of them likely to change anytime in the foreseeable future, IMO.

Saw your intro post. I feel similarly about High School and College RPs. You seem to have an interest in comics. Maybe check out...

roleplayerguild.com/topics/188543-mar…

There are several RPs and several RPers who pretty consistently put out good stuff, depending on what kind of RP you like to do.

I'd suggest JB, Ruby, Hellion, Penny, TGM or maybe TMG I always forget, and Poohead. Just as sort of starting places.

JB does a lot of Warhammer related stuff
Ruby used to be an admin/mod and does some good ass superhero RPs. She's the GM for that RP I posted a link for.
Hellion is an old friend and does some really good RPs in several genres. Some fantasy and a lot of cyberpunk.
Penny I don't know her proclivities but she writes a good deal at high quality and has for forever.
TGM/TMG does superhero RPs sometimes including my personal favorite 1968.
Poohead does a lot of fantasy stuff and is a straight up published author.

All of these folks are in their Late 20s to Early 30s. I think most are early 30s.

I'm in my mid 30s too.

Bounce, Hound55, and BruceWayne all make really good Superhero RPs if you're feeling like one of those too. I don't believe they currently have one active but look them up. Not sure how old they are but top notch writing.

Video Games: The General Discussion & Community Thread Number Two

That was probably sarcasm with the Meta, but just in case it wasn't or someone else sees that and thinks Ohhh Noooo I Gotta Go For Meta...

Half the fun is having weapons appropriate for several different situations. It's probably just about necessary for this new DLC if it's anything like MHW: Icebourne was. You gotta take advantage of every...advantage...you possibly can unless you're just a god with your weapon of choice.

The first time I played Icebourne I tried to push through past Large Ice Tiger with Pre-DLC End Game gear and it didn't work for shit. I eventually barely beat him. Second time around I had farmed up some DLC gear and some 4 Slot Gems and had a weapon that should help me. Basically some of the later stuff really really really justifies making extra weapons just to fight certain monsters or certain monster types.

At least until you get Fatalis gear and just shit on everything.

Video Games: The General Discussion & Community Thread Number Two

I can never settle on one thing. Or two things.

LS was my first and is my favorite when it's usable.
LBG helped me get through Kirin.
Lance feels amazing when it clicks with you.
Gunlance is fun but I kinda suck at using it.
HBG was fun once I could make it a monster shotgun.
Never really messed with Bow, SwitchAxe, Charge Sword or Greatsword.
Sword and Shield and Double Swords or Daggers or whatever they're called are fun but I'm terrible with them.
Bow is supposed to be good but I didn't use it.

Video Games: The General Discussion & Community Thread Number Two

I'd say just make whatever the hell you want. There isn't exactly a limit on much of anything. Particularly when/if you find missions that provide you with decent gear and are repeatable.

In MHW there was this one mission where you fight a...i forget names now...Big Lizard Bitch, Dodogama, and Paralyzy Lizard one after the other. It rewarded you with decent Zenny and sometimes Decorations. I got good at farming it. Used the Bandit Mantle. And chipped in Decorations so I couldn't get paralyzed or stunned.

I don't know if there is something similar to that mission or the Bandit mantle in Rise, but there's bound to be something you can run through several times to get $ or whatever the Decoration equivalent is in that game.

Plus it seems like it's basically always a good idea to experiment with other weapons if you don't just have it 100% in your mind that you are going to use X Weapon from start to finish, period.

Marvel: Judgment Day

He does seem like a fun character, and I am kind of interested in playing something approaching a bad guy for once. And his aka is The Prince of Power. I like.

Good looking out Hellion.

Marvel: Judgment Day

Me too. I'm playing around with ideas. Trying to catch up on years and years of not paying attention to the Marvel Universe.

What Are You Listening To?

Did we just become best friends?

Wh40k: One Step Beyond - A Rogue Trader Adventure (Closed)

Roald's thoughts were little more than a string of expletives more often than not not making any particular grammatical sense in relation to one another. The Ratling was operating mostly on instinct. Having skulked about most of this ship at one time or another and having stashed small cachets, mostly consisting of rotgut but occasionally homebrewed or small amounts of legitimate Amasec, he motored along on his rather small legs trying his best to avoid being caught out and slaughtered or eaten or whatever this lot would do to one his size.

These were not ideal circumstances for him. He could, and did, duck back into his hiding places and he was able to fit in places others would not be able to follow, but there were only so many alternate routes and ducting was generally not bullet proof. What was more, judging by the sounds of explosions, shouts of shock, and incoherent agonized screaming, there was no shortage of explosives creating plenty of shrapnel, fire, and quite likely some rather unpleasant chemical weapons.

It wouldn't be wise to wait anywhere for too long. Might lead to him ending up far far from friendlies, stuck behind enemy lines. Might catch friendly fire from someone not particularly keen on waiting for the imp to stick his head out of one hidey hole or another and identify himself as still normal(ish) human(oid). Might crawl into a cloud of invisible chemicals that would sear his skin and flash fry his insides, or some sort of electrical weapon that would barbecue him instantaneously. These were not ideal circumstances for him.

Scary, but invigorating.

He heard a mob of them skulking down a hall. Couldn't really make out words. Had to double check that they were Cultists and not just perhaps terrified men still on the side of sanity. Got a decent look at them from above and figured it out fairly quick. Blood on their heads and shoulders. Not their own blood. In deliberate signs and sigils. Fairly sure he spotted bits of flesh as well. Not particularly sane these ones.

He took a few deep breaths to prepare himself. Would need to move quick. Prepped a few grenades, gripped them in his left hand, then fired off a few rounds from his las pistol to melt the ducting behind him and slid the three grenades across the ducting and down into the mob. Rushed ahead immediately, feeling the ducting sway slightly from his hurried clambering. They'd figure it out pretty quick. Maybe should have moved slower. Hard to do that considering. Blasts started coming up from below. It had been smart to run.

Roald had been waiting for some shout of confusion, or fear, or shock. Had expected some sort of realization from the mob that their goose was cooked. It didn't come. Blast was still close enough he couldn't really discern if there had been one explosion or if they'd all gone off one right after another. His memory would be of crawling frantically, hoping that no stray round would gut him on the way, a heat, a deafening noise, and then a persistent ringing.

He clutched his las pistol tight, checked to see that his Long Las was still strapped to his back, and continued on deeper into the hidden places of the ship. Best to put some distance between himself and the ugly aftermath of those explosions. Hadn't seen any other Ratlings aboard but it wouldn't do to find out when a tiny little Cultist started slashing away at his legs with a knife. Also would not do to get a surprise colonoscopy from a random las pistol or rifle or really any weapon at all. Sudden surprise colonoscopies of any design would really mess up his plans for the immediate future. Very inconvenient.

An Unholy Mass: Warhammer 40,000 RP (Black Crusade Inspired) [CLOSED]

Tyrix Okobados

As I toil away at numbers and figures my hands look like someone else's. These are the hands of an old man. The hands of someone fit to do little more than pull at a blanket and shake involuntarily. Where has the strength gone? Where are the veins near to bursting through the skin. The hard calloused knuckles. The cracked fingernails, dirt and blood still worked in deep, almost impossible to keep clean. What are these thin pink appendages growing from them? They cannot be my fingers. They are too small. Too soft. Too clean.

These cannot be the hands that waved along reinforcements as I ducked under the wild fire of Orcish hordes gibbering at the moon as they rushed our encampments. Certainly these hands could never choke the life out of a traitor. They're not fit to scrabble up embankments, to dig and scratch at the dirt furiously that I might find some meager cover. These hands look inexperienced. Surely they've never been coated in the blood of my brothers, holding flaps of skin against leaking innards while we wait for medical evacuation. These dainty little hands have never dutifully closed the eyes of a fellow Guardsman for the final time. They've never signaled a firing line to execute deserters.

Each night stretches on, the minutes ticking by at a snail's pace yet somehow the hours rushing. I need to rest. I am not the man I once was. I no longer rise with a start from my bed and hurry on my way to make the Emperor's will manifest. These days the rising is a process all it's own, particularly on the nights when I have been unable to find myself the release of slumber. Those nights grow more and more common.

I lay in bed or recline behind my desk and ponder where I have failed that the Emperor deems I must continue on. I have done so much and ventured so far but still my work is not done.