Darcs

I really want a 3ds

Get money.

@Vilageidiotx

What a blast to the past

A Culturally Rich and Sophisticated Dissertation on the Mating Habits of Lizards

I sure could go for some DMT right about now.

Opinions bandwagon

I think Bernie is rad, but I feel like the death and destruction that would occur as a direct result of Donald winning would be enough for people to realize a two-party democracy is a dumb idea.

Homura did nothing wrong.

What is your favorite Lego franchise?

Bionicles.

Real talk time.

It's not like a probationary period before you officially decide what label applies to you. Shit just is as it is, and "knowing" what label you fall under is overrated as fuck. It's easier to just be. You find some dude attractive, hit on him, you find a girl attractive, ask her out. Whatever - just act on what you feel, and let knowing "what" you are lie. I've stopped even describing myself as bisexual 'cause I don't really know where I fall, but that's okay. You're an Aza-sexual, just like I'm a Halo-sexual, and Dinh there is a Dinh-sexual (I heard he's into stationery ._.). People are just into what they're into, and that rarely fits all neatly into some predefined box.

@Halo

Bruh this on a hundred million.

As someone who is vaguely latin, one of the Christ-like figures in my life is Morrisey, and he once said that labels are dumb but if you're going to call it anything call it humasexual, or just being a being capable of love and attraction-- and I really like that.

Just do you, boo boo.

A New Home; A Lycanthrope/Werewolf RP

Dana

Dream

"Why are you just standing there?" Someone close asked, "Did you forget your lines?"

Dana turned helplessly in the blackness that seemed to surround everything, searching for the source of the voice-- searching for any indication that she currently inhabited a body. Everything felt impossible weightless, but they weren't sure, they couldn't feel anything... he couldn't see... she couldn't taste... the sensations of hot and cold seemed as foreign to Dana as an honest day's work! This state of being was... or rather, this state of non-being was existentially concerning. Dana tried searching for the voice again, and was rewarded by having their vision go from a eerie blackness to saturated, burning white.

On reflex, Dana's closed shut tightly, and as they opened again slowly, the world seemed to materialized around her. Velvet curtains were to their back, ahead were nothing but empty seats, all lined with a similar blood red velvet-- the seats of this theater seemed to stretch backward for infinity, becoming deeper and more blurred as one examined the infinite horizon of missed opportunities. Each seat was unique-- each had a tear here, or a stain there-- but they all became that same dull red when you'd seen enough. A hypnotizing red that almost seemed to spiral with the brown walls of the theater. Dana found herself standing in the center of a creaky stage, illuminated by bright spotlights unseen.

"Look at her! She doesn't even know what she's doing!" The voice said mockingly.

Her?

Dana's eyes shot to the from row of seats, three figures materialized-- or perhaps they were always there-- directly in front of where she stood. The voice belonged to a woman, very clearly aged, but still powerful in how it was projected. She was dressed in strange black robes Dana had never seen before, and wore a grey ceramic mask that seemed to depict 'comedy'-- the mask was a horribly distorted cackling face. It seemed oddly malicious.

To the old woman's immediate left was a child who... was just out of sight, but seemed oddly familiar to Dana. The child might not have been wearing a mask, Dana couldn't tell. Whomever the child was, their face was obscured, and they seemed to be in a state of constantly slipping away from Dana's sight... like, being consumed by the velvety chair perpetually. To the left of the child was a small man, wearing more modern attire, he seemed very 60's, with white bell bottoms and white-stripped form-fitting collared shirt. To contrast his black robed counterpart, his mask was orange, and seemed sad-- 'tragic', it may have been a trick of lighting, but Dana swore that the mask was crying.

The woman in black almost seemed hyperactive, like she wanted to jump out of her seat. This man, to contrast, almost seemed to want to sink into the seat and disappear like the familiar child, but he didn't know how, so he simply curled in on himself. The man spoke in a reserved, empty voice. "I-i don't know... he seems nice..."

He??

Dana felt the snarl form across their lips, an instinctual reaction to frustration, "What the hell are you talking about?" The light 'Tragedy' shrunk even further into his bloody velvet theater seat. This seemed to give The black 'Comedy' some kind of thrill.

"Ha! Nice he says!" The black 'Comedy' practically howled. The smile on the mask seemed to grow wider, the black 'Comedy' remained in her seat, several meters away from where Dana stood on stage. But the mask seemed to be inches away from her face, "This weak Omega! So ignorant! So foolish! Foolish! Childish! Lazy!"

"I guess so," The light 'Tragedy' added.

Dana's snarl gave way to a much less intimidating, much more scared wide-eyed expression. "I don't..." Dana took an unsure step backwards.

"Do you know how wolves die?" the black 'Comedy' teased, "It's not comforting, cheery or kind." Dana could feel warm breath emanating from the math, yellow eyes glared at her hungrily behind the mirthful eye holes of the grey mask, "A tender Omega like you..." A long tongue appeared from under the mask to lick distended lips, "Mmmmm, Such fanciful flesh... The meat in your mouth... As you savor the flavor, with it's... sizzling blood and the unholy stench..." Dana was paralyzed as the black 'Comedy' spoke of consuming them. The black robed figure was at least twice as tall as them, despite her age. She was drooling through the mask, enough so to drown the theater.

"It's not natural, normal or kind." Said the child-- or perhaps that was just something they'd heard in their head. Dana couldn't tell, those glowing yellow orbs behind the fanged, smiling mask had her frozen in place. The light 'Tragedy' got up and slowly made his way over to Dana and the black 'Comedy.'

"Closer comes the screaming knife," the black 'Comedy' declared, and as if rehearsed both comedy and tragedy masks were thrown off the faces of their wearers, revealing the faces of snarling wolves, grey as death, red as blood. "This beautiful creature must die."

"This beautiful creature must die."

Dana's eyes began to water, "A death for no reason..." Shaking, Dana fell to their knees, unable to support their weight on that creaky stage, under that blinding spotlight any longer. The two spirits approached, eager to consume, "A death for no reason is--"

They were upon her.

~~~

Meat is Murder - The Smiths

Darkness was all Dana saw, and static was all Dana heard as consciousness began to return to the waking world.

A cow seemed to moo in time with music that blared on loop in Dana's ears. They... She was a tiny figure, laying curled under the large plush blanket that had served as her home, bed, and bedroom for her night spent in the barn. Their small frame had served them well this morning, as it seems they'd been ignored by all the apparent larks eagerly waking up for a day of hard labor. Dana could do without it all, and in fact, it was events like the last week that made her wonder if she'd made the right decision in joining up with the Blue Ridge Pack. Any excitement that may have come from living with the pack was constantly contrasted in Dana's mind with that fact that being up early was an expectation of the pack.

Despite all the stimuli, the animals in the barn, the early risers, the fact that music had been playing on near blast... it wasn't quite enough to fully wake the beast. Never one to jolt awake, Dana twitched an eye open slowly, and let her body slowly find its way upright while sitting in the hay, with stray bits of straw clinging to her hair and clothes. Dana did not yawn. Dana did not stretch. Dana did not look around the barn. The first thing Dana found herself doing was checking to see the health of the stacks of CD's she had brought with her-- the prized possessions she had decided more important than anything else to travel the road the Pack went with. Second; Dana pulled out her earphones with a light tug and popped open their Walkman. Pack rules had made it the most advanced piece of technology she could reasonably have.

The Walkman popped open revealing the CD she had left on repeat for the night, apparently; Meat is Murder

Not for wolves it's not, sorry Morrisey.

Dana couldn't help but feel like that might have had something to do with their dream. As their stomach growled, Dana remembered the one sensation strong enough to bring them out of the pure blissful reverie of deep sleep; hunger. _{"I could go for meat..."} she could hear herself muttering, and so with less of a hop, a skip, and a jump, and more of a stumble, a sigh, and a blank expression, Dana made her way to the cafeteria, where she could already hear others talking. Saffron wanted herbs-- probably not saffron, Alpha dog was being Alpha dog, Alpha dog female flavor was being Alpha dog female flavor.

Dana poked her head in, waiting in the safety of the door frame with Saffron, "Yes, tumeric. Tumeric's great-- Hey, also when's it all going to be done?"

@Aspen Wren@Rick Sanchez@Midori

Fear The Walking Dead / The Walking Dead RP.

Is Fear The Walking Dead good? I'm holding out for Netflix, but if it's just a rehash of the original I might not bother.

You know what I will bother with, though? This whole this, whatever this here is is. I'll bother with it, alright. Seems rad.

The Top Five Most Influential Roleplayers

>dead thread
Fuck it

My biggest influence as a babby coming over from the TV Tropes forums all those years ago was probably @Genkai.

Was it just me who looked up to her like a shy exchange student looks up to that one cool English teacher, even though you don't actually go to that class? Because that was pretty much my whole shtick for a long time, just lurking and reading other people's posts. I learned quickly how you can construct each post as it's own short story, rife with inner thoughts and action, complimented with an appropriate amount of prose and flavor. Mimicking that attention to detail and establishing tone came (mostly) from studying Genkai, and people like Genkai's posts and RPs, and emulating them and developing my own preferred method from their examples. That, combined with a FUCK TONNE of trial and error (process still on-going) transformed me into the collaborative writer I am today.

I know it's prolly weird for me to mention you tho-- I think the entire extent of interactions we've had was a potential 1x1 that never went anywhere once? Maybe? But still, thanks for being you so that I could become me.

This writing stuff's great.

Guild secret talents

I've disappointed more people in my life than the national average.

I can also ride bikes good, stretch like a dancer and do basic parkour.

The Dust: Begin Again

@Aeonumbra La propriété est impossible. ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)