Ordsmed

The Misfit Crew ~ Interest Check

Yup. Let's OOC.

I Once Belonged to a Fantasy World, But Now I Ended Up in the Real World?

I like this!
Count me in. I’ll start thinking on a character. 👍🏼

Looking For Long Term RP Partners

Hi there! My name is Maurits.
I would be interested in partnering up with you. I prefer rp in pm on this forum. I can reply at least 3 times a week. This frequency rises when I get obsessed with a story.
I’m long past my 18’th birthday. I’m most comfortable with old school fantasy settings, original sf worlds and plain old earth. Blood and gore do not scare me, neither does romance or sex.

As I look at your list, I haven’t got a favorite. Perhaps you could pitch the one you favor and we’ll see what happens. 😉 So, what do you think?

The Misfit Crew ~ Interest Check

Loverly!
Looking forward to diving in. 😀

The Misfit Crew ~ Interest Check

Done! Any feedback is appreciated. ;)

"Don’t. Just don’t…”

Thulile SaintMaurice

Name: Thulile SaintMaurice
Age: 17
Gender(or lack thereof): female

What Makes You A Misfit?:
Thulile shies away from human company. It makes her uncomfortable and feel unsafe. She also has this weird magical power, which she doesn’t properly control: animal mimicry. It means she can mimic animal attributes. It seems to have a strong and annoying link to her emotions.

Her blushes, in her childhood rarely visible on her dark skin, now pop up in strange colour patterns like a chameleon’s. Uncontrollably, a dainty hand can suddenly changes into a heavy, hairy bear paw. How can Thuly explain that in any plausible and sane way?

Thulile really understands animals. She is a fierce fighter for animal rights. She doesn’t mind breaking rules and limbs to protect animal life.

Appearance:

Height: 5’5”
Weight: 126 lbs.
Eye colour: soapy green
Hair colour: raven

Physique
Thuly is a pretty petite. Prominent in her heart shaped face are a pair of big, green eyes, which look at you with a fragile gaze of innocence lost. These soapy eyes barely hide the cracks in the soul behind them. Her lips might be full, but her tendency to squeeze them into a tight line makes it super hard to tell.

The girl isn’t tall, but is flat chested and thin, with extraordinary big feet. It makes Thulile look gangly and clumsy. It also ensures she is well grounded and sure footed.

Personality:
Thulile is a timid girl. She openly wears the insecurity of a teenager. Through her past experiences she has learned that trusting people is a liability.
She loves the directness and honesty of animal companionship. Thuly feels calm and balanced out in nature. Crowds, villages and cities creep her out.
Beneath the thin, timid facade sleeps a fierce animal. Push her buttons too hard, or in the wrong order, and Thulile will explode in a terrible rage. In this berserk-like state she is oblivious to danger and only wants to hurt, hurt, hurt.

Skills/Abilities:
Thuly didn’t finish school. She does know how to survive out in the wilds, living from the land. With her talent comes a knack for understanding animals of all sorts and sizes.

Powers/Magic:
Animal mimicry - the power to mimic the attributes of animals.

Backstory:
Thulile hails from Normandy in France. Born into a dirt poor family of sheperds, she was an only child. From an early age on she helped out, caring for the sheep and running wild with the sheep dogs. Although she went to school, she didn’t have a knack for bookworming, as she calls it. Thuly couldn’t ever sit still for school to end.

One dreadful winter, when Thuly was fourteen, her family’s flock was hit by disease. Within a couple of days nearly all sheep succumbed to it. Without any means to provide for his family her dad saw himself backed into a corner. In blind panic he leaped from the nearest cliff to his death.

Fiercely maternal, Thulile’s mother took up the gauntlet from her husband’s spread eagled corpse, to ensure survival for her daughter and herself. Sadly, within weeks her methods got her imprisoned for theft, and armed robbery. Thuly thus found herself parentless within two months of her father’s demise.

From America her uncle, brother to her father, came to her rescue. Or so she thought. He had no warm feelings for her. He did have the hots for her, though. In a cold, clinical way he started to groom her for his twisted, carnal pleasures. The first time he tried to force himself upon young Thulile, she surprised him by lashing out, and breaking his nose. Before he could recover, Maeve had fled the house. This was the first time her power exploded from her. It scared the hell out of her, and she not just fled the scene, but also the shock of her magic.

Without any kin, no friends, no passport, and only a couple of francs to her name Thulile roamed the streets. She managed to put some distance between herself and her cursed uncle by taking refuge in the anonymity the homeless society. There she had to fend for herself. It learned her how to grow and - mostly - control her power.

RP Sample:
“Merde, merde, g’damn!”, Thulile gasped. After the last time she’d vowed to stay calm and not meddle. But the man had asked for it. ‘He was kicking his dog half to death!’, Thuly thought. She couldn’t just stand there and do nothing. Perhaps she would’ve shown some more restraint, if she had known the man was the local deputy, but probably not.

Now she was on the run. She’d sped through the adjacent forrest, hoping to lose the posse which the sheriff had set on her. Well, perhaps Thulile shouldn’t have broken the deputy’s leg. “I at least made my point”, she smirked. “That’ll teach him”.

With the shivering body of the deputy’s dog on her shoulders Thuly ran through the dense undergrowth. Suddenly she stopped in her tracks. The trees were gone. A river of asphalt sliced through the greenery. Surprised, the young girl looked left and right, almost expecting to see a squad car speeding towards her. It wasn’t there. With a sigh of relief, Thulile gathered her wits. ‘What now?’

Faintly a tingle of music tugged at her earlobe. It seemed to come closer. At the same time Thuly heard the faraway screaming of sirens. A sense of urgency, bordering on panic, trampled her heart.

The music - ‘Country’, recognized Thulile - was now clearly audible. The source of it abruptly rounded a curve in the road. It was a beat up pick up truck. As it came nearer Thuly could hear the old thing creak and groan like an old man. Involuntary it reminded her of those two grumpy, old men on the balcony of the Muppet Show. ‘Statler and … what’s his name’, she concluded. A tiny smile curled the corners of her mouth upwards.

As again the peril of her situation invaded her thoughts, Thuly started to wave her hands at the nearing vehicle. “Help me”, she gasped, “please stop!”

TNT - The Nameless Tavern. (Always Open)

*can I delete this one?*

The Misfit Crew ~ Interest Check

Hi there!
This sounds fun. Betraying my age: I get a strong ‘the A-team’ vibe from this plot. Love it. I’ll write up a nice CS for this.

TNT - The Nameless Tavern. (Always Open)

She sighed and then straightened her back. Oh, how she missed her servants right now. Just someone to hold an umbrella over her once elegant dress. The rain had been drooling over her for some time now, and it showed! Even the plastic bag she’d found hadn’t been much of a savior.

As Marelynn reached the tavern’s door, she crumpled up the bag and threw it on the ground. Quickly the 27 year old aristocrat wrangled most of the rain from the bottom of her dress. Then, head held high, Marelynn entered the tavern.

The musty heat slapped her in the face. As it teamed up with her fatigue, it made her stumble. Immediately she regained her composure. ‘Never show weakness! It makes you a victim, prey’, thundered her father’s voice in her head, a head covered in wild black curls - now firmly held high. Beneath her breath she snarled: “I AM NOT PREY!” Immediately Marelynn’s stance changed. Her natural elegance and authority stepped forward as she flicked her hair back. Even in the sparse tavern lights her delicate features would rob a man’s breath. Looking around, Marelynn’s moss green eyes found the counter.

Straight as an arrow the slender aristocrat floated in her dark blue gown towards the counter. Oh, how she craved a hot choco, with a generous dollop of whipped cream, and a handful of those cute, little marshmallows… ‘Hmmm, a healthy shot of brandy wouldn’t hurt either’, Marelynn mused. As she reached the counter, she slapped her palm on the sticky wooden surface. “One big brandy, right here”, she ordered in a silky smooth voice.

How to survive a dragon hatching

"Stew, steeewww, stew, stew, stew!", Halfdan yelled as he ran throught the settlement. As he ran, he collected kids and some of the smaller dragons in his wake. His vigor and loudness attracted them to him, like Vikings to an easy plunder. The other children took over Halfdan's chant and the dragons added flapping wings and chirps and squeaks to the hullabaloo. As this morning parade passed the homes of clanspeople heads popped out of doorways and windows. The racket easily drowned out the sounds of hammers, saws and other diy-sounds. There was no ignoring it. Halfdan was doing a great job getting everyone's attention.

People wiped off the sweat and the dust and stepped out in the meagre sunshine. People knew. They knew that, whenever there was a great pot of stew of offer, it would most certainly be parked at Freyhild Grimsdottir's. And it would be good. Freyhild knew her way around a cooking fire, pot and ladle. As yelling Halfdan and his loud entourage went one way, a much calmer procession went the other way. A small chinking and tinkling of bowls and spoons joyfully making their way up to Freyhild's house.

Soon, the whole of the village assembled at Grimsdottir's cooking fire. Everyone was cheerfully chatting away at each other, as they sniffed up the promise of a full belly. Hog Morsan looked around with guarded relief. She'd feared that her clan would never smile again, after the massacre by the Romans. They'd lost so much; parents, grandparents, children, confidence, innocence, even sanity. But now, here, this place seemed to have some healing effect on the Hjarn Knackars, despite it's obvious violent past. This place seemed to have been cleansed, albeit violently. It, like her clan, was ready for a fresh start. As she pondered this, she smiled at Freyhild, showing her appreciation of Grimsdottir's initiative. She, also, had lost so much. A small tear escaped Hog Morsan's eye as she thought of Thorsten and Kjot.

Attracted to her mood, a small dragon - she didn't know what kind - curled up in her lap. 'And then there are the dragons', Morsan thought. She was convinced that they too, had a healing effect on her fellow clanspeople. They were curious, playful and surprising. How cute they might be, especially the smaller species and younger specimens, Hog Morsan understood that these were wild creatures. It made her wonder what awaited them here. 'Ah well...' Practical as ever, Hog Morsan shook her head lightly, to clear her head. The small creature on her lap scampered off, as she rose and walked over to Freyhild. As she came to stand next to her, Old Morsan laid her wrinkled hand on Freyhild's arm. "Smells good, hon'", she said. "You've worked a miracle again". Grinning she waved about at the assembled clan. "You did this. Do you feel the lightness, you've created here?" Peering deep into those stormy grey eyes, Hog Morsan added: "Thank you Frey'".

Be a Viking! Complementary dragon included (clutch that egg!).

This is taking off very nicely. If you’re interested, just join in the fun! 🥳