LetsFly

Lovely, Terrible Things [Arista & LetsFly]

Calvin was almost certain Ana was going to take him up on the dessert offer, and he bit his lip to hide a smile. He was far too pleased with the prospect of getting another few moments with her.

But just before they could discuss the menu, her phone rang, and she gave Cal a shrug before answering it. Cal busies himself with studying the dessert menu himself, but he’s almost certain he hears a male voice coming through her phone. Of course. It would have been foolish for Cal to assume he was the only prospect she had — if she even saw him that way to begin with. The way she looked, plus the sharp wit and intelligence, she probably had suitors lining up. He was going to have to step up his game if he wanted to make any impression. He hoped the phone number he’d slipped her would present him with that opportunity; otherwise, he’d have to find some other way of tracking her down.

Ana looked concerned, and Cal got the creeping feeling that their little lunch date was about to come to an untimely end. Before he knew it, she was standing, looking apologetic. She explained her reasoning and Cal beamed at her, standing as well. “I totally understand, do what you need to do. I’ll cash in that rain check sooner or later.”

He’d started to reach out his hand for a polite good-bye handshake, but was met instead with a kiss to the cheek. The stupid grin on his face couldn’t be hidden if he’d tried. “Until next time,” he said softly, watching her as she left. She stopped to pay for her food and Cal nearly called out in protest — it’s not really treating her to lunch if she’s paying for her portion, is it? — but decided against it. And then she was gone, Mishka trotting by her side, the rain pelting them both. Cal wished he’d thought to have an umbrella on hand he could have given her — but couldn’t help but notice, through the window, that it wouldn’t be a problem, considering she was getting awfully cozy in a hug with some redhead guy.

Cal’s jaw hurt, and he realized he’d been clenching his teeth. Stella whined at his feet, perhaps despondent that her new friend had left so soon. He paid for his meal, boxing the rest of the salmon to give to the dog later. “Well, girl, it looks like it’s just you and me again,” he said, scratching her ears affectionately. “Hope you don’t mind a little rain.”

The two stepped out and made their way back to his car, still parked at the Humane Society. Stella seemed perfectly content to take her time, splashing in puddles as they went. When they’d gotten out of the rain and into the BMW, she shook herself off, sending bits of water flying everywhere. Cal chuckled, using his hands to shake the water out of his own hair. This leather interior was going to be a problem if Stella was going to be coming with him everywhere. He decided he’d have to switch up his daily driver to something with a more forgiving material.

He pulled out of the parking lot, driving carefully as they made their way through town, unwilling to take any chances with the apparent loss of common sense among other LA drivers the second there was any precipitation. Cal had decided he would return home that night — one of many, but he considered his house just outside the city to be his primary base. The high-rises were disappearing in the rear-view mirror when he finally stopped at a pet store. The two of them walked the aisles, and Cal added every toy that Stella sniffed to their basket, as well as some large bags of food, bowls, treats, special shampoo for pit bulls’ sensitive skin, and a pretty new collar. He had a tag engraved with her name, as well as his phone number on the back, and then they were on their way once more.

When they reached the house, Stella set off to smell all her new surroundings, tail waving happily. “Welcome home,” Cal said, sighing as the words fell into the empty room. He set about arranging all their new things, filling her food and water bowls, arranging her toys into a basket in the living room, and finally slumping onto the couch.

Before long, Stella returned, hopping up onto the couch to curl up beside him, her head in his lap. “Yeah, I know. Just you and me. It’s a pretty big house for just the two of us,” he said, trailing a finger up the soft fur above her nose. “What’d you think of Ana?” he asked, tilting his head as if honestly waiting for Stella to answer. “You and Mishka seemed to get along well enough. It would be terrible if you never got to see your first friend again. We’ll have to make sure that’s not the case. You know, for your sake.”

Stella licked Cal’s hand, and just as he was about to continue, his phone began to buzz in his pocket. He fished it out, and the screen, again, showed an unknown number. Cal’s brow furrowed. The previous time the number had called, no voicemail was left. It was probably just some sales call. He swiped to answer.”

“Look, whatever you’re selling, I don’t want any of it.”

“Boss, hang up!” Cal heard, though distantly.

Marcus.

He stood immediately, alarmed. “Marcus? What’s going on?”

There were rustling noises on the other end, as if the phone were exchanging hands. Then, a new voice: “Hello, Calvin. Long time. Your friend here is a tough cookie to crack. It’s a good thing he had your number in his phone — I may have had to resort to more creative ways to get him talking.”

The voice was vaguely familiar, but Cal couldn’t place it. “Who is this?” His voice was hard, and he looked around the room, as if expecting to see the guy outside one of the windows. “If you lay a finger on Marcus, I swear to God, you’ll never see the light of day ag—”

“None of that,” the voice chided in an amused tone. “Unlike you, I’m not one to want blood on my hands. It’s all just so messy. I don’t like messes. Which brings me to why I’m calling you. Let’s call it cleaning up a mess, tying up a loose end.” The voice paused, as if expecting some sort of response. Cal waited. “You really have no idea who I am, do you? How typical. Always so self absorbed, Calvin Crawford. We’re at 2089 Sunset. You show up, your friend leaves unharmed. Scout’s Honor. You have one hour.”

The call disconnected. “FUCK!” Cal screamed, nearly chucking his phone across the room. Immediately, he made his way up the stairs and into the bedroom closet, where he entered a safe code to reveal an array of firearms and other weapons. He holstered a .40 S&W, checking the magazine to make sure it was loaded, and stowed another in his pocket just in case. A knife went into his other pocket.

He rushed back down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Stella was sitting up on the couch, whining, her ears low. “You have to stay here, sweetheart,” he said, cupping her face reassuringly. “I’ll be back. I promise. Hold down the fort.”

In his car once more, he ripped it out of the driveway, nearly taking out the mailbox in the process. As he sped toward the highway, his mind reeled, trying to place the voice that had been on the other end of the line. Whoever it was, they clearly knew how to get under Cal’s skin — they’d gone right for his best friend. That wasn’t going to fly with Cal. If Marcus had so much as a bruise, this guy was as good as dead.

The pistol felt heavy on his hip. Of all the things that went on in his odd and complicated life, this was certainly his least favorite.

Oathbreakers [Skyrim RP] [LoadedGuns & LetsFly]

"Got it. Karthspire it is!" Lyra agreed happily, finishing up the last of her rabbit. She'd packed light, so there wasn't much cleanup to do in order for them to be ready to hit the road. Finrod had mentioned making a stop to stock up for supplies, so she was sure they'd head back to Whiterun -- at least, she thought. She had no idea what direction Karthspire was in. "I think that's a good starting poi--"

Before she finished her sentence, Finrod's hand was on hers. Lyra gasped, alarmed, nearly jerking out of his grasp, but when she saw Finrod's face, she didn't dare let go. He was staring off into the distance, as if in a trance, and his lips were moving, though no words came out. She tried to focus on them, to decipher the shapes of the words he was making, but wasn't able to figure it out. At last, he seemed to return to himself, his eyes focusing suddenly, looking tired. He didn't let go of her hand.

Did... did you have one too?

Lyra's eyes widened. He'd had a vision? Of course, their hands -- she looked down at them, brow furrowing. They'd had the vision the evening before when they'd touched -- that must have been what sparked it. But why hadn't she had one this time, too? "I... No, I didn't." There was worry in her voice. What did that mean? "What did you see?" She asked, a bit desperate. Would the same thing happen to her? Would she bump into Finrod later, on the road, and suddenly go into a trance? She hoped, if so, that it wasn't in the middle of a dangerous situation. Gods only knew what kinds of things they would run into in their travels. She squeezed his hand reassuringly, unsure if he was even aware he'd been holding it.

S t i l l A l i v e (looking for GM as well!)

gonna bump this once and then take the hint 😭

S t i l l A l i v e (looking for GM as well!)

<sub>Please don't be discouraged if you haven't played Portal -- this RP has very little to actually do with Portal and requires no knowledge of it.

This is an old idea I tried to get going a few years ago and never got off the ground. I'd love to have someone else help GM or co-GM, as I'm not super familiar with group RPs and I'm not always the best at coming up with ~twists and turns~. Let me know if you're interested!</sub>

S t i l l A l i v e

_{"...The point is,
if we can store music on a compact disc, why can't we store a man's intelligence and personality on one?
I have the engineers figuring that out now. Brain mapping, artificial intelligence,
we should've been working on it thirty years ago."}

ᴛɪᴍᴇʟɪɴᴇ

» 1943: Cave Johnson, founder of Aperture Fixtures, wins multiple awards for selling shower curtains.

» 1944: Cave Johnson purchases a salt mine in Michigan's Upper Peninsula, and uses is to construct Aperture Innovators.

» 1947: Aperture Science awarded for best up-and-coming research facility, and the transition from shower curtains to scientific research is officially made.

» 1949: Aperture is ranked #2 Best Science-Related Company in the industry (possibly just behind Black Mesa...)

» 1959: By this time, Aperture is known to have experimented with Time Travel, nanobot technology, microchip implantation, and injecting humans with the DNA of praying mantises. Most with little to no known reported results.

» 1981: Cave Johnson is terminally ill with moon rock poisoning, and decides to announce that mandatory employee testing will soon end. Begins to look into artificial intelligence, aiming to replace employees with robots. Spends the next year studying brain mapping and AI research.

» 1986: Cave Johnson dies, and Aperture is temporarily shut down for renovations.

---

ᴏᴠᴇʀᴠɪᴇᴡ


This roleplay assumes that GLaDOS was never created. Instead, Cave Johnson's idea of artificial intelligence was used to create new test subjects. He created both fully-automated robots as well as humans enhanced with robotic parts and attributes, using the fully automated robots to conduct tests while secretly releasing the hybrids, disguised as fellow scientists within the research facility. At first, the fully automated robots are used as a "control group" -- pitted against human test subjects in order to better record optimal testing speed and efficiency. However, eventually the need for human test subjects runs out as the AIs have very accurate simulated biology and react to tests almost 100% as humans would. Eventually, a new market is discovered: Virtual Reality. The control group is kept as-is while new AIs are developed to be controlled remotely through a VR headset. These new robots become somewhat of a body prosthetic extended from the human mind, all motions and actions operated by their human controller. The potential uses for these RC AIs are endless -- the public could use them to go and pick up groceries, to drive their kids to school, even to perform their jobs for them, all from the comfort of their own homes. However, as artificial intelligence advances further and further, people begin to notice "malfunctions" with their AIs, such as doing things on their own without being told to do so. Over time, the self-awareness of all forms of Aperture AI increases to the point that they are almost completely indiscernible from humans.

---

_{Aperture Science:
We do what we must, because we can.
For the good of all of us,
except the ones who are dead.}

ᴘʟᴏᴛ


The RP begins a couple decades after the finalized product is developed and released. Artificial Intelligence has been fully integrated into society. The AIs go about their lives as everybody else does -- they have jobs, they form relationships, and millions of jobs have been created within the AI industry, with "jailbreaking" becoming a common practice as tech-savvy humans add modifications to their AI counterparts in order to add desired functions. Twice a year, all AIs, VR, automated and hybrid alike, receive a transmission to return to Aperture for follow-up testing and upgrades. However, shortly after arriving, a large group of AIs malfunction violently, causing several deaths and the total destruction of Aperture's artificial intelligence wing, causing the network connection between the existing AIs and Aperture to be permanently severed, thus rendering the AIs completely independent (other than those controlled through VR.) The EPA is alerted to the issue and immediately orders that every single Aperture AI be disabled and destroyed -- an event that was never anticipated by Aperture, and proves to be very difficult considering their are very few discernible differences between humans and bots. This causes the AIs themselves to go several different ways -- some killing others for self-preservation and to cause humans to believe they are one of them, others banding together and going into hiding, but there is little they can do; all airports and international borders are now equipped with metal detectors as the government sets out on a mission to identify and destroy all AIs. Random checks are permitted in many workplaces, and all humans in possession of a VR android are ordered to recall it immediately and report it to the EPA -- causing a fight for control in the minds of the VR AIs between themselves and their controllers. Some other humans form a coalition for AI Rights, becoming abolitionists of sorts and establishing a makeshift underground railroad. Other AIs believe no humans can be trusted and suggest that all AIs come together in uprising, destroy the humans and effectively take over the world.

---

ᴄʟᴀꜱꜱᴇꜱ

» Human (Scientist or Civilian)
» Fully Automated AI
» Hybrid AI
» VR AI (takes two roles, the AI and the human controlling it)

---

_{Slots
»
»
»
»
»
»
»
»
»
»}

Lovely, Terrible Things [Arista & LetsFly]

So she liked to cook Asian food. She was full of surprises. He wasn’t familiar with the family-meal concept, and hadn’t been since he was young. He was a bit envious, imagining having everyone you loved in one place, sharing stories and food and enjoying each other’s company. Sure, Cal was surrounded by people every day. But no one that knew him, not really.

He noticed Ana smile when she saw the dogs being sweet with one another. Cal was pleased the two of them seemed to get along. He’d had no idea how Stella would be around other dogs, and was relieved that she seemed calm and happy with Mishka in her company.

As they spoke, Cal cut into his salmon, taking a bite here and there but not feeling particularly hungry. He had never been much of a lunch guy — in fact, he tended to be running around without time to even think of eating until the evening, when he’d usually just grab something quick from the hotel kitchen, or order takeout.

When Ana answered, she was a bit distracted, but her words made it so Cal didn’t mind. “You’ve been nice company so far, you and Stella both.” He beamed. And she didn’t have any plans. Would he be pushing his luck to try and see her once in one weekend? He scratched his chin, considering. He desperately didn’t want the end of this lunch to be the last he’d see of her.

He got an idea, taking advantage of Ana’s distraction, and pulled a pen from his pocket, grabbing a napkin and scribbling on it quickly.

If you’re not sick of my face yet, give me a call sometime. I’d love to see more of yours. 555-1234.

He leaned under the table with a piece of bread in hand, using the ruse of feeding it to Stella, and gently tucked the folded napkin under Mishka’s collar, careful not to let it tug on her soft fur or cause any discomfort, and that all the white was hidden beneath the collar’s band so that Ana wouldn’t notice it until later.

He returned his attention to above the table, and caught Ana with a small smile as she typed. Cal felt a pang of jealousy. Perhaps she had a boyfriend. Hell, perhaps she was married. He didn’t see a ring, but that wasn’t entirely uncommon these days. Even after all he’d been learning today, he realized he knew next to nothing about her.

“How would you make it worth my time? The rain doesn’t look like it has plans on stopping soon.”

Cal grinned. “Well,” he said, “I can think of plenty of indoor activities that could keep us occupied.” He cringed internally. Those types of flirts weren’t going to get him anywhere, he was certain of it, but it had slipped out. He didn’t take it back, however. He didn’t want her doubting for a second that he was attracted to her.

“For instance,” he added smoothly, “The desserts here are to die for. Perhaps we can outlast the rain, heaven knows it’ll be short lived around here. Or, if you’d prefer a change of scenery…” He trailed off, letting the question hang in the air. He was under no assumption that she’d spend more than the bare minimum amount of time she could with him, just to be polite — and perhaps to get a free lunch. But he’d be damned if he wouldn’t try.

Lettie's Feeling Romantic [1x1, plots, pairings, fandoms, etc!]

Bump!

Nallore's 1x1 RP Partner Search.

Hey there! I’d love to work something out with you for a FxF pairing in either the Walking Dead or Vampire Diaries universe — let me know if you’re still looking, and I’d be happy to come up with some basic plot ideas :)

Lovely, Terrible Things [Arista & LetsFly]

Cal was relieved when Ana seemed to relate to what he’d said, regarding the work vs. passion priorities that engulfed his life. She even smiled a bit, and Cal grinned in response, reassured that he hadn’t simply been rambling and boring her to death.

She said she liked to try out new recipes, and he tried to picture the woman before him clad in an apron, skillfully slicing a tomato or sautéing chicken. He was pleased with the image. “A chef, eh? Any particular dishes you’ve found an affinity for?” She liked to read and watch “trashy TV”, too. Cal was making mental notes. He wasn’t sure she’d give him the pleasure of her company again after this, but if he was so lucky, he would remember her. The things that made her happy. He’d never paid much mind to the finer details of the women he encountered — in most cases, he knew he wouldn’t be spending long with them. Something in him wanted to spend days, weeks, with Ana.

His thoughts were interrupted when she continued, her eyes settling on the view of the rainy sidewalk outside. “I play piano at the hospital when I have time.” Cal’s expression softened. There was a vulnerability in her voice, and he gave that the respect it was due, a small smile of admiration on his lips. “I would love to hear that some time, if I’m ever so lucky,” he said softly, imagining the way her long fingers would look as they coaxed the piano keys into a melody.

Before he could say more, the waiter returned with their food, stealing his attention for a moment to catch up. Cal was friendly with him, returning the conversation, but his eyes never left Ana. He’d known it from the moment he laid eyes on her — she was something special.

He felt Stella shift beneath him, and checked under the table briefly to see she’d settled in, laying down at his feet, her face not far from Mishka’s. Stella sniffed at Mishka a moment before licking her nose quickly, and then tucking herself in to rest. The dog was braver than him. He hadn’t laid a finger on Ana yet.

“So,” he said, clearing his throat, “Any other fun plans for the weekend? I appreciate you allowing me to steal a bit of your Saturday. I hope I can make it worth your time.”

Oathbreakers [Skyrim RP] [LoadedGuns & LetsFly]

Lyra's stomach growled gratefully as she bit into her own rabbit, the savory flavor enriching her senses. The food soaked up the mead from the previous evening. A bit of a headache had been pounding at her temples, and was beginning to subside. She'd never been much of a drinker, and her body wasn't pleased with its effects.

As Finrod mentioned stopping for supplies, Lyra nodded, but inside, fretted a bit. She was nearly out of funds, and was uncertain she'd be able to afford much that would help on their journey. She'd have to forage and hunt, she decided. Even if it slowed them down, she wouldn't be ashamed. She was a survivor, and she would do what she did best.

Considering Finrod's suggestions for their next destination, Lyra weighed the options carefully.

"I think either the Greybeards or Karthspire could be promising," Lyra said thoughtfully. The College of Winterhold was tempting, but she was a bit ashamed of her lack of knowledge in the realm of magic. Besides, she wasn't sure the urgency of their visions. Could they afford to take their time?

Lovely, Terrible Things [Arista & LetsFly]

Fashion and retail, Ana had said. Despite the glitzy glamour that surrounded Cal's life, it was an industry he hadn't touched, even in passing, and wasn't particularly knowledgeable in. When she gestured to her own attire, his gaze followed appreciatively. She was certainly fashionable, and looked polished and put together. Not that such a thing would be difficult for a woman like her -- he imagined that with her face, those sapphire eyes and cupid's-bow lips, she could make a t-shirt and basketball shorts look good. If he had his way, he'd like to see her in one of his t-shirts one day, picked up from the pile of clothes they'd left on the floor the previous evening. The corner of his mouth tilted up into a smirk at the thought.

"How can you not be impassioned by the things you do?"

This question, finally, gave Cal pause. He had no smooth, practiced answer to give her. He contemplated a moment, his gaze burning into hers as if the answer lied there somewhere. "It's not that I lack passion for my work. I'm quite good at what I do, and I put my all into every task. It's more that..." he brought a hand to his chin, rubbing his jaw in thought. "It's all a means to an end. Sure, I could go scoop poop at the humane society and technically be making a difference. And I wouldn't be opposed, I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty. But I want... more. I wanted to build something, something that would generate enough excess revenue that, beyond the few things I and my companies need to succeed and live comfortably, I could fling at whatever does impassion me on a given day. My main jobs are more of a side-project that end up funding the things I really care about: Sponsoring adoptions for parents, constructing homeless shelters, or things like the fundraiser gala last night. Does that make sense?"

It was more than he's said about himself all day, and he was rather surprised by his own willingness to talk about his motivations. Even Marcus, his best friend, didn't ask him things like this. The philanthropy portion of his life wasn't some facade to gain public favor -- it was what he'd rather be doing with all of his time. He'd set up foundations, broken ground on shelters, provided schools with supplies. None of it ever felt like enough.

Taking out evil assholes who preyed on those people felt a lot better. It was one thing to push in the direction of good, to try and cover up for the mistakes of the city and care for those who were born into shitty circumstances, or struck with bad luck. It was another to try and eradicate the things that put them there in the first place. That was much more satisfying.

He was glad for the change of subject when she asked what he did to unwind. "I love to read," he admitted, surprising even himself that he'd started with that. Why he wasn't gushing about spending weekends on yachts and attending fabulous parties, he wasn't sure. "And I'm a bit of a wine-o. I'm hardly ever home, but when I am, you'd easily find me with a glass of cabernet and a trashy novel. They're a bit of a weakness for me." He reddened a bit, looking off a bit distantly with a grin. "I'm a bit of a hopeless romantic, I suppose. And what about you?" He returned his gaze to her, shaking his head as if physically shaking off his own train of thought. "When you're not enthralled in the world of fashion and retail, what occupies your time?"