Jenn

[Casual-Advanced] Sneak a Peek?

Testing the waters again :).

[Casual-Advanced] Sneak a Peek?

On the look out again :).

[Casual-Advanced] Sneak a Peek?

Bump.

[Casual-Advanced] Sneak a Peek?

Bump.

[Casual-Advanced] Sneak a Peek?

Bump!

[Casual-Advanced] Sneak a Peek?

Hello, potential partner, and thanks for choosing to take a gander at my interest check! I’m going to try to keep this as brief as possible, but I do feel there are some things I need to establish before you inquire about an RP with me.

First off , I have been a solid RPer for upwards of seven years. I consider myself a seasoned roleplayer. I know the rules, the etiquette, and the expected propriety. I expect you to know them as well. No, this does not mean that I’m going to jump down your throat if you slip-up. I am not, by any stretch of the word, an austere person. I do this for fun, and I want it to be fun for others as well. Being strict and uptight does not coincide with a good time, does it? I simply don’t want to be correcting you all the time because you are oblivious or are just plain ignoring the basic rules acknowledged by most roleplayers.

Secondly, I am a college student who is disgustingly neurotic about my grades. I'm the girl who spirals into the depths of depression if I finish out a class with anything lower than an A. Annoying, I know. What that means for you is that I won't always reply every day or even every other day.. I'll try, but sometimes I simply have too much work to get done, or, to be perfectly honest, I just don't feel like replying that day. Sometimes all I want to do when I don't have to study is marathon a show on Netflix in my bed for eight hours straight...Anyway, what that also means is that, as of now, I am looking to take on only one RP. Because of this, I am going to be extremely picky about who I take on—-meaning I am requiring a writing sample from anyone interested in starting up a plot with me. Since it’s only fair, I will be more than happy to disclose a sample of my own. Please do not be offended if I choose not to RP with you. It is not a reflection of your writing capabilities but of how I feel our writing styles would mesh.

Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, I consider myself to be an advanced RPer and am requesting that my partners be as well. Advanced to me does not mean that you can vomit a 3,000+ word post out each go (to be honest, post count is of little concern to me). I am mostly looking for quality writing. As for myself, my replies usually range from 500-2000 words, especially in the beginning. Like I mentioned, I’m really not a huge stickler about post length, and won’t mind the occasional short post, so long as it gives me something to work with.
Note: Right now, I'm looking for a more laid back RP. That doesn't mean I'm looking for one-liners. I expect my posts to be long in the beginning, but then simmer down to an easy length of about 3-5 paragraphs a post.

Now onto the Rules!

I loathe rules just as much as the next guy, but these need to be established in order for us to have an enjoyable RP.

*For the love of all that is holy, do not make me send you on a goose-chase to find a keyword so I know that you read these. Pull a Nike and just do it!

•I have no problem with mature themes. I'm 20; I can work with it or around it. Violence, sex, gore: throw it at me. I do, however, have a problem with mature content just for the sake of mature content; it should be pushing the plot forward somehow. That being said, if you have a problem with mature themes, let me know and we’ll work something out.

•Be willing and able to play both genders. It is a huge turnoff when I see people claiming that they only play one gender. I’m looking for flexible partners, and if you can’t play a character simply because they are of the opposite sex, you’re not flexible enough for me.

•Please have a basic grasp of mechanics (no, not the branch of science).

•If you’re going to use a picture to describe your character, that’s fine, but please don’t use anime. It’s a quirk of mine, but it bothers me.

•DO NOT just disappear on me without a word. If you want to drop our RP, let me know. It’s silly to ignore me just because you’re too afraid to tell me that you’ve lost interest. Interests are fickle and fleeting, I get that--really, I do.

•I really prefer to use email at this point. If you’re not comfortable with that, I can probably be persuaded to use PMs.

•I would LOVE to be your friend. You want me to read your Sherlock Fanfic? Sure! You’d like me to check out a smexy picture you drew of your OTP (or whatever they're called)? Go for it! You want to talk about the ethical dilemmas of testing hair restoration on naked mole rats? Let’s do it! If you would prefer not to talk to me, that’s fine too, but I insist that our lines of communication remain open enough that we can freely discuss and bounce ideas for our RP.

As far as pairings/my interests go, I am open to most and would prefer to discuss them over message, rather than create a laundry list of what I’m interested in. I do have a strong affinity for romance and enjoy at least a taste of it in my RPs, though it does not need to dominate the plot.

Whew, that was wordy, wasn’t it? If you survived that and still want to talk RPs, it's best to shoot me a PM, as I am not always good about checking on this. I look forward to hearing from you!

Claim Your Signatures/Avatars!

Picked up avatar 30 and will pick up PNG signature 22 whenever you feel like putting them up. Thanks!

(Casual-Advanced) Brace Yourselfs, Winter (break) is Coming

Oops! I guess I forgot to enclose my sample as promised.

Writing Sample

She was supposed to have been called Guinevere, an allusion to a queen whose wandering heart led to the fall of a legendary king and his round table. So the tale went that her mother had meticulously chosen the name and would not be swayed from it. However, after a laborious birth that left her dozing, her husband had picked up the whimpering infant to be named Guinevere, cuddled his face to her downy cheek, and softly declared, “My sweet little Gwen.” And so the name Guinevere had been lost on all but her mother, replaced by a common moniker. No records existed anymore to prove which her true title was, and most who knew her knew her only as Gwen. Having never been overly-fond of sharing an identifier with the infamous Arthurian adulteress, she was content with that.

Indeed, few tongues were privy to her true name, including the one that screeched outside her room. “Gwen! Gwen! Wake up!” Each bellowed word was emphasized by the tinny-bang of a meaty hand against the metal of her door. Promising retribution for the massacred tendrils of sleep that slipped away from her, Gwen sat up just as her room became filled with hideously bright light. Muttering, she threw up an arm to protect her eyes from the intrusive beams.

“I hope you’re decent,” A mirthful voice chuckled from above her. Jericho’s hulking stature loomed over the bed, providing enough shade to relax her arm and comfortably glare up at him.

“What do you want?” She demanded, voice harsh with equal parts vexation and sleep. Down in the Bright Order Underground the only thing coveted more than sleep was peace, and his presence was disrupting both.

“You’re due for the morning patrol.”

“No, jackass, I’m not. I took the midnight patrol.” Giving him a look reminiscent of the middle finger, she laid back down on her side and wrenched the covers over her head, only to have them yanked completely off seconds later and tossed to the opposite corner of the room.

“Yes, sweetheart, you are.” Gwen was ready to come to blows when she jerked to her feet. Upon seeing her, Jericho’s stupid grin only grew. He raised his hands in surrender. “Don’t shoot me, I’m just the messenger, and the message says you get to take over Jules' shift this morning. So, get dressed, get breakfast, and get your ass out to morning patrol.

“Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got some Zs to catch.” He extended a calloused hand and tugged at her brunette braid before departing, making a show of laughing loudly at his own feeble-minded humor.

Mumbling a few choice words, Gwen reluctantly accepted her two-shift fate. She dressed back into the canvas pants, black racerback, and heavy boots she had changed out of only six hours earlier and headed down to the mid-level. The Bright Order utilized the vast remains of an underground metro station to contain and quarter its growing population of knights, scientists, and the occasional civilian. Not an inch of space went unexploited; it all went towards something: housing, training, storing, growing. If walls were needed, they were built with scrap metal pried from broken-down subways or foraged from outside; it was the same for everything else. Anything vital to human existence was built or taken from the ruins of the old world. The underground had become its own realm; a damp, claustrophobic sanctuary untouched by the infestation that now plagued the earth.

Shaking off the residue of interrupted sleep, Gwen let her feet guide her to the refectory. Inside, people milled about sparsely, some standing in line around the serving area, others already seated in staggered slumps at the long rows of tables. They were the few dedicated enough to wake up first thing for a meal, when the portions were bigger and the quality better. Shuffling around them, she grabbed a wooden bowl and effectively cut to the front, ignoring the quietly uttered oaths at her back. Oatmeal and eggs shared the menu that morning; both were piled up into her bowl by a shaky, delicate hand. She glanced up at their owner and felt an instantaneous pang of regret when she found herself looking at the sweet, wan face of Ellie. She was 7 months pregnant, and if that weren’t bad enough in a world gone to hell, the baby inside her hadn’t moved in days. The order didn’t have the technology needed to investigate an issue like that, and, though a group had been assembled to raid one of the hospitals in the city ruins, odds didn’t look good. Hospitals seemed to be the demons’ playground. Whether they were drawn there because death had once been a heady presence or because they understood the human necessities that lay inside was unclear; either way, it made replenishing even the most basic supplies a treacherous endeavor.

Ellie smiled a sad, weary smile. Gwen allowed a flicker of something that resembled a reciprocating smile to pass her lips before she turned sharply and seated herself at a table two rows down. It was shameful, she knew, to treat Ellie as though she were the carrier of some repulsive disease, but grief always made Gwen uncomfortable. There were plenty others around who were better-equipped for expressing compassion and sympathy; Ellie was better off being comforted by them. Conscience eased, she unwrapped her fork and dug into her steaming food.

Her breakfast ended prematurely barely fifteen minutes later when a massive influx of people mobbed into the refectory. Shoveling the rest of her meal into her mouth, she set her dishes into a soapy wash bin and fled from the room before she could become engulfed by the mass. She found herself next in the bottom-level, casting her gaze among the extensive armory. Swords, guns, shurikens, an almost endless variety of weapons lined the walls—all blessed, all designed to kill the plague outside the underground's walls. She found her section and armed herself with the weapons she’d possessed since becoming a knight. Though popular opinion seemed to favor the belief that those who wielded blades were considered the elite, Gwen didn’t have the desire or patience to employ one in combat. An assault rifle at her back, a handgun at her hip, and a dagger in her boot for good measure was all she needed to unleash devastation on the demon forces quickly and efficiently.

Rather than exit through the main entrance and risk becoming strung up in conversation with any of the waking population, she ventured deeply into the endless chasms of the subway tunnels until the exterior under her roving fingertips transferred from cement to the cool metal of a door. Huffing out a sigh of relief, she pushed out of the rusting door, and after climbing an obscene amount of concrete stairs, came upon another door that led to freedom—if the East side of a demon-infested city could be considered freedom, anyway. Taking a moment to catch her breath, Gwen inspected her environment. Everything was eerily still; the air had become so stagnant it was almost thick in her lungs. Above her, the sky bore down, angry and menacing, a sickly shade of deep grey. There was no day and no night. Cars lined the street in front of her like decrepit ghosts. Their tires flat, their windows broken in. The only purpose they could possibly serve anymore was as potential hiding places, and that was being ambitious; it was difficult to hide from demons.

Ten yards ahead, a neon green strip of spray paint defaced one of the buildings, and the building next to it, and next to it, and next to it, and so on for a mile or two. It marked the perimeter: the area knights like Gwen constantly monitored for demons. Their patrols didn’t make the zone completely safe, as demons had a charming habit of popping up wherever they felt like, but activity was considerably less frequent in the boundary. Dropping a bullet at the building’s base to mark where she started, she followed the spray paint markers. As she had done countless times before, she would follow the line of the perimeter and work her way inward before calling it a day. Hopefully her impromptu patrol would only bite into a few hours of her morning.

A half-a-mile into her walk, and she began humming a cheerful tune dredged up from some forgotten recess of her mind. In her humming, she nearly missed the whisper-soft scrape of movement from a building to her right, just over the perimeter. Falling silent, she stopped and soundlessly pulled the rifle from her back. Eyes glued to the building, she waited to hear the noise again. Just as she decided to chalk it up to her imagination, the sound erupted again, this time louder than before. Assuming a defensive stance, she crept to the building—a broken down dive bar with the boldly painted name “Jimmy’s” barely remaining on the rotting wood façade.

“Hello?” She pressed against the doorframe and peered into the dark depths of the abandoned remains, but would go no further. She had been trapped inside a small building with a demon one too many times to ever attempt it again; it was easier to draw them out in the open and dispatch them from there. “Anyone home?”

(Casual-Advanced) Brace Yourselfs, Winter (break) is Coming

*Yourselves. Let's just call it finals brain.

Disclaimer: I am on a 30 day Christmas break. That means for about 30 days, I will be a fairly constant replier. However, once my semester starts up again, I won’t be so frequent. I take my grades painfully seriously and I spend most of my free time studying for my classes. That’s just how it is. That in mind, I need someone who will be ok with me taking a week or two off occasionally when my workload gets heavy.

Hello, potential partner, and thanks for choosing to take a gander at my interest check! I’m going to try to keep this as brief as possible, but I do feel there are some things I need to establish before you inquire about an RP with me.

First off, I have been a solid RPer for upwards of 6 years. I consider myself a seasoned roleplayer. I know the rules, the etiquette, and the expected propriety. I expect you to know them as well. No, this does not mean that I’m going to jump down your throat if you slip-up. I am not, by any stretch of the word, an austere person. I do this for fun, and I want it to be fun for others as well—being strict and uptight does not coincide with a good time, does it? I simply don’t want to be correcting you all the time because you are oblivious or are just plain ignoring the basic rules embraced by most roleplayers.

Secondly, as of now, I am looking to take on only one RP. Because of this, I am going to be extremely picky about who I take on—meaning I am requiring a writing sample from anyone interested in starting up a plot with me. Since it’s only fair, I will be disclosing a sample of my own at the bottom of this post. Please do not be offended if I choose not to RP with you. It is not a reflection of your writing capabilities but of how I feel our writing styles would mesh. Note: You will get major bonus points if you come to me with a plot to pitch, as I don’t currently have any in mind.

Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, I consider myself to be an advanced RPer and am requesting that my partners be as well. Advanced to me does not mean that you can vomit a 3,000+ word post out each go (to be honest, post count is of little concern to me). I am mostly looking for quality writing. As for myself, my replies usually range from 500-2000 words, especially in the beginning. Like I mentioned, I’m really not a huge stickler about post length, and won’t mind the occasional short post, so long as it gives me something to work with.

Now onto the Rules!

I loathe rules just as much as the next guy, but these need to be fixed in order for us to have an enjoyable RP.

*For the love of all that is holy, do not make me send you on a goose-chase to find a keyword so I know that you read these. Pull a Nike and just do it!

•I have no problem with mature themes. I'm 19; I can work with it or around it. Violence, sex, gore: throw it at me. I do, however, have a problem with mature content just for the sake of mature content—it should be pushing the plot forward somehow. That being said, if you have a problem with mature themes, let me know and we’ll work something out; fading-to-black in no way hurts my feelings.

•Be willing and able to play both genders. It is a huge turnoff when I see people claiming that they only play one gender. I’m looking for flexible partners, and if you can’t play a character simply because they are of the opposite sex, you’re not flexible enough for me.

•Please have a basic grasp of mechanics (no, not the branch of science).

•If you’re going to use a picture to describe your character, that’s fine, but please don’t use anime. It’s a quirk of mine, but it bothers me.

•DO NOT just disappear on me without a word. If you want to drop our RP, let me know. It’s silly to ignore me just because you’re too afraid to tell me that you’ve lost interest. I'm a big girl, I can handle it.

•I really prefer to use email at this point. If you’re not comfortable with that, I can probably be persuaded to use PMs.

•I would LOVE to be your friend. You want me to read your Sherlock Fanfic? Sure! You’d like me to check out a smexy picture you drew of Sam and Dean? Go for it! You want to talk about the ethical dilemmas of testing hair restoration on naked mole rats? Let’s do it! If you would prefer not to talk to me, that’s fine too, but I insist that our lines of communication remain open enough that we can freely discuss and bounce ideas for our RP.

As far as pairings/my interests go, I am open to most and would prefer to discuss them over message, rather than create a laundry list of what I’m interested in. I do have a strong affinity for romance and require it in my RPs, though it does not need to dominate the plot.

Whew, that was wordy, wasn’t it? If you survived that and still want to talk RPs, it's best to shoot me a PM, as I am not always good about checking on this. I look forward to hearing from you!

Anything But Ordinary (Blazed&&Jenn)

Hazel’s eyes drifted warily to the gun Ash had palmed in his suspicion. She wasn’t fond of its presence, nor the implication it bore. There was no need to bring a gun unless he was willing to use it, and doing so would break the treaty. These two factions she stood in between were so frustrating in their disputes. Like oil and water they were, and both were wearing her down to the bone as of late. But, as she raised her vision to focus back on Ash, she could not resent him for his instinctual turn to violence. In fact, his obvious concern for her safety—despite the fact that it was extended to the entire human race—moved her. Both of the hunters’ distrust and abhorrence of the fay folk was genuine and true and stemmed from the nobleness of their hearts; that was the only thing that kept her from vilifying them herself. If only she could get them to see that, like humans, the fay were not all evil. In fact, most of them weren’t. But Hale and Ash were hard-headed and too marred by their own experiences to heed her.

“I’m fine, Ash.” She scrutinized his face, throwing in a smile for good measure. “I’m not afraid of them; I have no reason to be, and neither do you.” Though shaken by her odd exchange with Luca, Hazel’s convictions remained true. The higher-ups may have taken to strong-arming her, but they would never hurt her. Nor would they hurt the hunters, if they would stop breaking the rules.

Suddenly, the man in front of her seemed to transform—assumed a different sort of edginess. She couldn’t help but crack a grin looking at him. From soldier to socially awkward in a blink of an eye; it was charming. She and he were no better than acquaintances, despite inhabiting the same small town; despite the fact that she had been born and raised here. But she had been homeschooled, and so did not have the advantage of forming bonds through the public school system. After graduating, she had done a stint at the public college, but had not seen him there either. She had become more familiar with Hale through this and that, but did not know even him as she would have liked.

Her endearment towards Ash’s disposition met an abrupt end when she realized he was trying to make amends on Hale’s behalf. Smile disintegrating, she squinted into the sun, warring with the bitterness that brushed her heart. Of course Hale would not acknowledge his crimes, because to him they were not crimes: not his unapologetic extinguishing of a life; not even his complete and utter betrayal of Hazel’s good faith. She crossed her arms over her chest and breathed deeply through her nose. There was nothing to be done about that. She would instead focus on the fact that one of the hunters had come. That counted for something, after all.

“I don’t think there’s much to talk about; not without Hale here.” She said, fixing her gaze back to the hunter in front of her. “But it was very sweet of you to come anyway.” And now she smiled again for him. “The effort means a lot to me.”