Jeep Wrangler

War Diaries Acera

I'm probs gonna wait until I see one or two characters prop up before I nail down what I wanna do

War Diaries Acera

Hi mum

War Diaries Acera: An Isekai RP Concept

imma throw a lil' interest here

Persona ~ The Beholder

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Ah, what an unmistakable dreariness: time. The day was spent in false company. Many people surrounded him, and yet he felt as if he were there all alone. People came and went, talking with or to him. Ideas for scripts, camera discussions, compliments towards the last year's work and appreciation for contemporary pieces. He smiled, sometimes, and carried on with life as it was. The same old anchor that tied his feet to the ground still held onto him. He couldn't shake it, nor could he loosen its grip. It felt hurtful to admit that he'd lost a lot of hope in finding what he ever so desired. And so, he continued to just work as he always did. Maybe someday it would come. Maybe it wouldn't. He didn't know but he surely did care. It was one of those things, those sparks that can't catch alight. Split asunder between his true needs and his personal situation, he simply dragged himself to the toilet every so often to catch a breather and a drink of water.

As the day went on, he began to drift into his mind. He thought back to the dream he had. A blue room laced with velvety strings, coating the bridge of a ship's interior. It had been so...surreal. Chalking it up as a dream didn't feel right. Something felt different about it, like he physically sensed things a man usually wouldn't. From the long-nosed captain to the spiritedly intriguing figure beside him, it stemmed from no prior schema or experiences he'd had before. It wasn't a creative pounce. That worried him, but it also made him more intrigued by what it had been. He began to think over the small details he could remember, just as if he were there in person. The shaking the sea yet the stillness of the ship. Sails tattered and loose, being dragged along in the wind. Metaphorically, he had no clue what it meant, at least from the vague memory he held of it. Oh, the cold furnaces and funnels that weren't active. Something about them seemed to catch his attention, but to what reason was still unknown. Most of his reminiscence came from within the room.

The man with the long nose, as he'd be known as, was a very distressful figure. He spoke with an eerie tone, one that felt too provocative of a stalkers tongue. The things he said, the suggestions he made. Bets, games and keeping a close eye? But he wasn't the only one in the room either. Laurence stood amidst several figures of unknown shade. Clouds and gases covered their faces. God, the entire thing befuddled him. He wanted to know. He had a desire to learn about the dream, if it were a one-off special to his weird imagination or something of a premonition? It couldn't be, he thought. Those were things beyond real cognition; a pseudoscience perhaps? Either way, it puzzled him through the entire day, right up until he'd decided that he'd done enough work. He wasn't sure if he'd be heading out to his treated dinner that night or if it was a reschedule. Either way, Fiddle would've called to have let him know later on.

The time? 5:30pm, on the dot. He felt a strange thump in his head. It ached for a little while, forcing his hand to hold against his temple. The plummet felt extraterrestrial. A murky tailor to his scalp suddenly discomforted him. It lingered and it toyed with him for a while, increasing its irritation over the course of a few minutes. Rotten luck, he imagined it was nothing more than a migraine at the very worst. It didn't ruin anything in the day, only discomfort. One of the small things in life that would pile on to the endless seas of struggles that one must face. He looked back up at his phone. 5:42pm. Time really did fly past when there was nothing to work for. He sighed. And so, he slung his bag over his shoulder, collected his laptop and walked towards the nearest exit.

The air felt fresh, yet poisoned. Each step he took felt riddled with motion sickness. He staggered once or twice, but maintained his course. Getting home was the priority. The campus was huge, taking a while to cross from one end to the other. And along the way, as he walked down a particular alley leading behind the science department, something began to warp around him. The sky. It...shifted? No. It changed colour? Or did it? The warps and waves fluctuated through the sky. Ripples bounced all around him. A violent agony besieged his forehead. He didn't know where it was coming from or what was happening, but he could've sworn an entire mist appeared when he closed his eyes, falling to a single knee. As far as he knew, there wasn't anyone near him, nor in the same alleyway. He tried to speak, but felt his throat close tightly. His eyes shimmered with bright lights and crude obscurities, like clouds. And before he knew it, there was an awfully unrecognisable change occurring around him, one that would forever begin the path he and many others were unaware they'd take.

Persona ~ The Beholder

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Counting the nights had become impossible. The scribbles on her walls were incomprehensible. Individual tallies began to merge into one another. Soon, the numbers were a single constant scratch against the wall. Irony had hit her like a train. Hiding in the shadows to avoid THE Shadows. A crawling bottom feeder, a scrounger at the end of time. Faced with the endless void of uncertainty, she'd conjured plan after plan. Each colour coded nightmare had their own names. Yearn wasn't strong enough to describe her desire. There was an act that needed to be launched, the next part of the greater story she held so dearly onto. Her scribbles fell upon blind eyes and her begs were spoken to deaf ears. No scribe could translate her incoherence. Voices in her head did the talking for her. When there was no one to talk to, the only person she could converse with was herself. In desperate determination, she began to titter to herself as she realised the inaudible screaming coming from inside her run down hideaway. A tale on insanity had barely left her alone. Final hour. Final year. Final week. Final day? Something taunted her from around the corner that wasn't really there. Her skittish fiddling jingled throughout the underpass. Agony played with her.

"I can hear you, you little fucker..." A raspy, tired tone met with a head twitch unsettled her routine of self-devastation. Her eyes scouted out the surrounding. Something smelt off, as in an apparition had been lurched in her bedroom for hours. Nothing was there, of course. Nothing was ever there. There hadn't been anything but her for the years that had passed. Deep down, she hoped he would show his face, either to end it all or to just talk to her like they used to. "Come on! Show yourself...please..."

Quietly, she turned to sobbing, her face breaking down to her hands. She cradled it with dainty fingers and soaked up her own tears. Her stomach rumbled. Through her false loyalty, she thought she'd have been something beautiful. Nothing felt the same anymore. On her light and human skin, the odd feather would brush against her clothing. They didn't connect to her skin, but her clothing felt almost identical to her own flesh. Nothing quite felt the same still. She scraped another tally against the wall, watching it merge into the other countless lines she'd clawed in herself with a rusty knife. Her midnight hair flowed behind her as she wiped her eyes dry, but not clean. With weary hands, she pulled her hood up over her head, forming the cowl she'd grown to idolise. Across the face, her mask was placed, its extensive beak now hiding the face she'd grown to detest. She had become the Raven again. Under the cowl, she felt safe. Stepping out of her hiding house, she walked into the open air, where the World of Fog towered around her. Her feet were light to the step and her mind was once again set back into place. Hunger. She wanted it. She wanted to carry the death on her shoulders. She wanted someone to see what she saw. She wanted to run. She wanted to escape. And in her final lunge, she ran off into the day, sensing a strange yet destructive rift open up on the other side of the foggy metropolis.

~ Halo: Suffocation ~ [Open]

Due to issues with inspiration, timing and all sorts of other tidbits inbetween, I'm going to have to say that I'm gonna shelve this RP idea myself for now. If you guys wish to expand on the idea for your own RP, please feel free to go ahead and do so. I apologise to those who've already worked on CSs only for this to drop on yah. Many apologies!

~ Halo: Suffocation ~ [Open]

I'll get back to working on my CS, should be done soonish!

~ Halo: Suffocation ~ [Open]

@DeadDrop@EpicRoleplay Gonna accept yours

@DisturbedSpecI'll accept yours, but it does just seem really weird how a portion of the character is just ripped from another game, makes it feel a little less genuine? Are you willing to change a little bit about that to make it less of a copy and more flavourful?

The face and appearance is all good, you can keep those as its an appearance, it's mostly just the tidbits here and there

~ Halo: Suffocation ~ [Open]

Big apologies but I have to drop out before even turning in my CS. Maybe next time when I'm not as busy :)

@Liv

Ahh fairs, no worries

~ Halo: Suffocation ~ [Open]

Will review the CS's tomorrow, big tired today : c