Darcs

The Dust

>le halfchan maymay text

"Everyone plays the Schizophrenic voices of one guy" RP

Up for it

Oakenheim (Modern Supernatural RP)

Jeans/jacket master race

Mental Illness

@TheDookieNut Knows what's up.

When explaining an action sequence

Fade to black, go to another scene or a flash back or something, come back to the resolution. Unless it's a super important fight for the plot or one of the characters involved there's no point going into crazy detail over it, either give a short, barebones, but impactful description or use the scene to develop the character. For things like that, skipping around, using the black holes of the fighting can be interesting narrative tools, and the interpretation of how you skipped around through the character's thoughts the bits of the fight you may get, back story bits, or something else entirely, and then how you get to the conclusion can be fun, because then people can interpret their own meaning of why Jonas' mind went to the memory of being in the zoo with his mother as he fought the giant serpent. Freud would say he wants to bang his mom. Jung would say he saw an innocence in the ferocity of the beast. Maybe it's juxtaposition? Maybe his mind didn't even go there??? Of course for those fights you DO need to have shown then I say go all out. have 20 pages for a 5 minute fight.

The Dust

We're almost at 20 pages and we've only gone about an hour into the morning starting at like 8, I don't think you have to worry about us missing the scheduled doom.

Choose your own adventure.

I guess I just saved everyone, then?

Oakenheim (Modern Supernatural RP)

"Swervin’, swervin’, gettin’ all them dimes," Mary bobbed her head as she flowed the bars on the sidewalk, "Tell her I be doin’, I be swaggin’ to my prime," Her voice was flat, the darkness under her eyes was fresh, "This ain’t all the time, it happens all the time," She hadn't slept much, the blasting music coming from her headphones helped her stay up, "That’s a big contradiction, get your money on your mind--" At least, that's what she told herself-- "What, what-- tell her I be on a chase." The rapping along just came naturally. "Chasin’ for that paper and you see me on that race--What, what," Mary took a sip from the still steaming Starbucks cup in her hands at the lyrical break, "tell her I be goin’ first," This was her third cup this morning. She'd needed to walk to this obscure sketchy playground from her house several miles away, and she'd passed several coffeehouses on the journey, "I be gon’ first and they put me in a hearse, oh," She hadn't been given much choice, when Mary had asked her mother for a ride, the elder Miss Janicot had just kind of hissed at her, it was weird. "One big room, full of bad bitches, no," the morning streets of Oakenheim were empty, "One big room and it’s full of mad bitches," the air was gray, not with fog, but with... the residual heat leaving things, due to the coolness of the atmosphere, "Lana, Lana, tell them what it is," Mary's eyes observed her surroundings, she took in cracked asphalt streets, the buildings and businesses that hadn't yet woken were to her right, vines covered the fence to the playground, "Tell ‘em that you doin’ it, you mean to do it big," she traced her hands along the cold dark green kudzu, it was amazing how resilient arrowroot could be in the cold... "I said, one big room, full of bad bitches, no it’s," with each word, the white wisps of breathing left her mouth, like she was losing part of her soul, "One big room and it’s full of mad bitches, I said," Mary took another sip of the coffee, "Lana, Lana, tell them what it is," She wondered if Kanoa was right, was there some inherent evil involving the unseen here? "Tell ‘em when you do it that you only do it big," Did it even matter? Has anything ever? "Uh, uh, catch me ridin’ like a bitch," Mary's mind wandered as she walked, speaking the words in a deadpan trance, "Got the six forty-five, catch me ridin’ with my bitch," She supposed it DIDN'T matter if there were spooky spirits about or anything, "Uh, long hair, Lana, that’s my bitch," But it was something of a dick move of them to be actively fucking with people on the level of kidnapping or murder, "Uh, You can tell by the swagger and the lips, uh," Yeah. She slowly shook her head, taking another sip of the coffee. Kidnapping wasn't cool, Mary didn't abide. "Uh, uh, catch me ridin’ like a bitch," Mary shrugged, she increased her pace, she was close to some of the others, "Got the six forty-five, catch me ridin’ with my bitch," She could feel something in her body telling her to turn around an go home, was it just her being shy? "Uh, long hair, Lana, that’s my bitch," Nah. It was that... thing. She'd told everyone about it... for some reason. Mostly just a personal relief, it was nice to talk about it-- and she'd wanted to, she really hadn't needed much prodding. "Uh, You can tell by the swagger and the lips, uh," Mary had emotions! Now no one would respect her as the stoic badass that she knew she could be. Mary sighed internally. Mary pulled down her headphones as the song came to an end, as much as she'd have loved to A$AP and Del Rey drone on about whatever it was that song was about, she had other matters to attend to. Mary turned the corner at a gap in the foliage covered fence to make her way to where a few of the others had gathered. Kanoa, Maxwell, Raven, and what's-his-face. The pretty guy. Yeah, that was probably it. Did... did Kanoa dress exclusively in school uniforms? Mary had never paid much attention to it, as she'd never found herself looking this closely at her before, but now that she actually thought of it, she really couldn't recall an instance where Kanoa didn't resemble some quirky Asian schoolgirl. Maybe that's what she was going for. Raven and What's-his-face were close to Kanoa, Maxwell was nearby, observing things, probably scowling at them, too. Everyone seemed to be dressed to impress-- to contrast Mary was practically the same as they have seen her yesterday. She wasn't even sure if she'd changed out of her black jeans... fresh was the gray tank top with it's faded logo-- different from the black one she'd worn yesterday-- and a post ironic leather jacket that, she felt, was fitting for her joining the High school junior X-files team. It protected her arms from the cold. Although, honestly, the low temperature didn't bother her. Mary yawned as she made her way over to the three, the flawless Raven, the... intelligent Kanoa and uhh... What's-his-face. What bothered Mary most was how damn early in the morning all of this was. She took another sip of her coffee as she approached, just in time to hear What's-his-pretty-face say something predictable. Mary glared, "No. You're late. We already solved the crime without your help. You should scoot off back to bed."

Fractured Ego (Psychological thriller RP)

Superego comic

The Walking Dead: Among the Ruined// Spin-Off

Ada Cinet - MEC - Buck/John "Christ..." Ada muttered, mustering back her strength, she trained her gun on the door. She couldn't deny that she was shaky, at this point, her body was probably running out of adrenaline to keep her going. Still, she possessed enough focus behind her tired eyes to aim the gun at the cracks in the door. She wasn't particularly needed, though; Buck, the large man who'd come running at her greeter's call, seemed more than capable of holding the door on his own. She was left alone with him as the man who'd greeted her ran off in search of a lock and chain, upon her suggestion, it seemed. "So..." Ada forced a half-smile, empathizing with the man struggling to hold the door closed. Re-holstering her gun, Ada brought out her knife, she was enervated, but she could help. She began bringing the knife down into the heads of those unfortunate sickos that found their way into the cracks of the door. "This a regular thing here?" the knife squelched as she pulled it out of a long deceased skull, "I mean, I can't be the first person to try to go into a hospital?" she stabbed again, looking up slightly to see if the taller man would respond-- he was utterly focused on the task at hand, "Heh. Right, sorry..." The dangling of chains rand out a few seconds afterward, signifying not Jacob Marley coming to warn of the Ghosts of Christmases Past, Present and Yet to Come, but instead the leaderly man, coming to close the door. As quickly as the problem was created, it was resolved! Ada might have even cheered, if she hadn't remembered she was surrounded by large men she didn't know. The leader didn't lapse for a second, immediately after locking the chain, he ordered Buck to confiscate her gun. Ada couldn't respond fast enough to beat the man to where she had it. Fuck "Fuck!" Fuck, indeed. It was too good to be true. It was always too good to be true. Of course people would hole up in a hospital, useful medicine was always gone, just like in the pharmacy. She could have just kept walking-- that would have been smart, but no, she just had to try it out. She knew there were people here, but she still just had to have hope. She was weak, tired, hope was the thing that got people like her killed. Even so, death was preferable to that. Ada sighed. She wasn't dead yet, that was good. But in her experience, men with guns only kept women like her around for specific purposes. Her body visibly shuddered as she raised both hand, her eyes flicked from both of the men to the ground, "Do what you have to..." she mumbled, her voice resigned. She looked back to the leader after a moment, "But," the resignation mingled with a resolved tone, "If you wanna do what I think it is you wanna do to me, just kill me now." She still had her knife-- they hadn't taken it yet, if they touched her she could still get one of the sick bastards.