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Rapid Reader Member

STATUS: I just force Bork or Shiva to RP when I need a GM. 4 yrs ago
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  • Last Seen: 3 yrs ago
  • Joined: 5 yrs ago
  • Posts: 303 (0.18 / day)
  • VMs: 3
  • Username history
    1. Rapid Reader 5 yrs ago
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Recent Statuses

4 yrs ago
Current I just force Bork or Shiva to RP when I need a GM.
1 like
4 yrs ago
I think the main thing with any IC is a good pitch, I've joined plenty of RPs because the pitch was good (but rarely do I care about how pretty the thread is).
3 likes
4 yrs ago
Some questions are just curve balls though. Traditionally the answer to "Do you support white supremacy?" is an easy no, unless you're either an idiot or racist or probably both.
10 likes

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Most Recent Posts

In Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game] → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>

Would be good to see some new faces.


I have been summoned by the request for new faces.

Character wise, I'd probably like to lean into some supernatural stuff and write up Rag(wo)man. The character of Ragman always seemed fun and I haven't had an excuse to try my hand at writing said character.

So why not now?

Why not in an RP full of sensation and wonder?



WIP Character Sheet: Last Update: July 28th, 11.40 PM

In Priest and Hawthorne Investigations: A Modern Fantasy Adventure! → 3 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
@Rapid Reader as Valerie Ward - I could read about Val for hours!


Thanks! If people want to read more featuring any character I wrote then I feel very pleased.

Val was a lot of fun to write so far, so I'm ready to dive in deeper.

In This isn't working out: Part 3 → 3 yrs ago Forum: Off-Topic Discussion
Related too food, an unwillingness to try various types of food would be a massive pass for me.

Obviously, I don't expect everyone to eat Surströmming (or any particularly extra food), but I couldn't date someone who scoffed at the idea of having Thai food one date, Georgian food the next, and maybe Brazilin food on the third date.

Life limited to one national cuisine would be so hideously boring.
In Tips for writing POC, LGBT+, and other minority characters in RP → 3 yrs ago Forum: Roleplaying Discussion
Spin off question (I'll update the original post too): What are obstacles you have to writing characters who are a different gender/race/sexuality/any other quality as yourself?

I notice a lot of people in the 1x1 section seem to stick to writing as their own gender and want to open this thread up further for discussion and advice for anyone who might want to branch out from their niche, whatever that may be.


Imma be real here and say effort.

I don't care much about what other people think in terms of my RPing and in terms of writing a novel that's what a qualified editor is for (telling you if you are off base with your style).

However, what I often worry about is just the amount of effort that it requires to radically diverge from who I am in real life or what I have a decent knowledge about in terms of social categories or things like culture. Although, I suppose this also is a result of my desire to write plausibly and with some accuracy (considering real life).

For example, I don't doubt that without enough proper research I could write a believable and high quality male, heterosexual, Malaysian pirate in a cyberpunk setting. However, the amount of work I would have to do feel like I really nailed said person would be pretty insane.

Similarly, as an East Coast Best Coast person, it's pretty easy to spot every invented idea of New York City that people write up because it rarely passes the five minutes of googling test. Which obviously, doesn't mean people shouldn't set their RP in New York City or write up NYC peeps, but it's an case study for how easily people who know stuff for reals will actually spot holes in your made up stuff.

It's the same issue I have with writing severe trauma or mental illness into an RP, I'm just not confident I have enough knowledge or even if I am willing to dive deep enough into either for a character in an RP to not just seem like some cheap pull at any reader's emotions.

I guess my tip would really be write what you know, unless you actually have the talent to write outside the box and the energy to do the appropriate amount of research.
In Falling Skies: Reboot ver 2 → 3 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
A collaboration with @vietmyke:


Clara / Zoom




Clara's comms burst to life in a sudden wash of static. The station was gone. Styx was gone. She was sweating beneath her helmet. Resetting the circuit breakers of a MAS was hard enough when docked. Resetting the circuit breakers of a MAS was even harder when you were in combat. Someone had fucked up. Someone had made one hell of a mistake. And someone had almost gotten her killed on her first sortie with the 7th.

She could hear the engine spooling back to life with a sudden lurch as power surged through the generator to the two boosters. She let out a puff of air, breathing in deeply. Jumping back into the pilot’s seat, she flipped the master ignore switch silencing the alarm klaxons and warning signals that overwhelmed her HUD. She’d have to risk it. There wasn’t time to double check her on the spot fix. All Clara knew was that if she made it, if she made it back to Roanoke she was going to kill the mechanic that had readied the Peregrine.

Coalition MAS were still threatening Roanoke. The rest of the 7th was still fighting as Abigail and Jakunta fell towards Cerol.

"Boss," Clara shouted, opening her comms. "Hardballers on your six! I’m engaging but you’ll have to do some pilot stuff right now!"

"You good lieutenant?" crackled Ingram’s voice, his camera shaky and fizzy on Clara’s HUD, "Thought you were dead in the water."

"I'm good now, Boss," Clara said, making no effort to hide the irritation her voice, "But someone on the Roanoke won't be if I get back in one piece. How hard is it to install a computer mainframe correctly?"

Without waiting for a reply, Clara firewalled the throttle, sending the Peregrine lurching forward in a sudden burst of speed as the afterburners kicked in. She felt the injected fuel explode and the extra thrust pushed her back against her seat with a low grunt as she began to pace her breathing. She anticipated the Gs. She knew they would be there. She tensed her muscles. Her G-suit squeezed against her body, tightening around her legs and chest, pushing the blood back towards her brain. Helping her to keep awake. She breathed in. She fought the blurring that threatened the edges of her eyes, the exhausted darkness of G-loc. Gritting her teeth she began to slowly speak a word. The same mantra. The same mantra she had used since flight school. Hook. It made her feel like a pirate. She had always imagined that she was communing with the old swashbucklers. She finished the word, exhaling, before she began the technique all over again.

Anti-G Straining Maneuver (AGSM). A Relic of the age of atmospheric combat. No longer necessary given the advanced suits that the UEE had developed. However, when you were pushing against the limits of what the human body could take, every second of consciousness counted, and Clara had no intention of forgetting the secrets of the old aces.

The two lumbering Coalition MAS had no time to notice Clara before she came rocketing into them. Ingram was too close. She couldn't use her missiles and she didn't have time to wait. With a flip off a switch, Clara armed her cannon, watching as the HUD shifted. The Smart AI adjusted in a dance of code, projecting moving circles in front of the enemy MAS faster than she could even react. She needed to correct. She was going so fast. Not fast enough, she thought. She picked the trailing Hardballer furthest from Ingram and squeezed her trigger. She felt the loud boom of the Rheinmetall MK 508 firing, heard the hollow thud as the heavy cannon rounds left the barrel. The shield of the Hardballer crackled and then broke in a flurry of lightening as her rounds smashed into the back of the Hardballer.

The leading Hardballer broke to the left. She could hear the crackle of desperate comms from the Hardballer she had just hit. Heavy damage she suspected. Next target Clara thought as she kicked her left pedal, dancing gracefully towards the much slower undamaged Hardballer. She heard the blaring warning sound of a radar lock as she prepared to fire. There was no time for countermeasures and she broke to the right, spiraling the Peregrine in a painfully high g move that sent grayed her vision and left her gasping for breath.

"Oh no you don’t," Ingram growled, pushing hard on the throttle as the Sparrowhawk rocketed past the Peregrine. His cockpit rattled as he barreled in after the fleeing Hardballer, his onboard AI quickly locking onto the bright thruster flares. Had the target been a Garmr or a Fenrir II, Ingram might’ve been willing to let it go- it was faster than worth chasing, and in the grand scheme of things, not particularly valuable targets. On the other hand, these heavy fuckers were durable and powerful, even a damaged one with a working plasma cannon could cripple the Roanoke with a clean shot. Hardballers were tough but slow, and in its current state, it was little more than shooting fish in a barrel.

As soon as his AI confirmed a target lock, Ingram flicked open one of the covers on one of his control sticks, and pushed the button it protected. There was the quick thunk of the missile tubes cycling, and a split second later he felt the recoil in the cockpit as a longsword missile burst from one of his shoulder launchers.

The Hardballer noticed the missile, and attempted to roll out of the way, but with its current damage it wasn’t capable of such a maneuver, and disappeared in a burst of fire, as armored limbs and plating scattered into the void of space.

Without missing a beat, Ingram wheeled around and faced the other one, his maneuvering thrusters shooting him downwards to dodge a spray of cannonfire. Whilst this was all happening, the battlespace was rapidly shifting. Pips and Grizzly had begun their descent onto Cerol, Abi’s last ping pinpointing their position and noting their predicted fall path on everyone’s HUD. Already they were getting further and further away.

"Commander Ingram," A calm voice called to him, and a small box appeared in the corner of his HUD across the command channel. The smooth voice belonged to Captain Sarret, commanding officer of the Roanoke. "The Roanoke has informed Command, we’re to go after Sunray immediately. Clean up and get back on board. We can’t afford to stall out here much longer."

"What about the rest of the fleet?" Ingram replied, dodging out of the way of a plasma blast and returning a flurry of 20mm shells at the remaining Hardballer. Its armor was tough, and his shells weren’t getting through, but he managed to overload the shields, opening it up to more damage from the Peregrine’s heftier weapons.

"The rest of the 5th fleet is falling back, the defense fleets are being commanded to hold the line until we can get to Sunray and get out. Our window of opportunity is closing fast. Get it done. Sarret out."

The Captain’s face vanished from his HUD as the comm cut, punctuated by a pair of heavy plasma beams lancing across space. The heavy beams hit their mark against the Coalition cruiser, tearing across the hull. Explosions rippled across multiple decks as the plasma beams melted through the ship.

Ingram growled, and pushed his Sparrowhawk forward, slamming into the Hardballer and slicing at the offending machine with his beam saber. He rapidly pushed off of it as his saber connected with the ammo drum, a myriad of explosions following it as several shells exploded from the saber’s heat. The rest of the weapon’s ammunition poured out into the vacuum of space, rendering the Hardballer’s rotary cannon useless.

"7th squad," Ingram’s voice crackled through the squadwide comms, "We need to pick up the pace. Wipe the board, then RTB. Every minute we waste up here is another dozen miles between us and the recovery team."

Hitting the kill button on his controls again, he loosed another of his precious few longsword missiles, hoping to get a quick kill. The second Hardballer was quicker on the ball though, and attempted to dodge out of the way of the missile at the last moment. The missile was faster than the mech however, and while it was able to dodge a killing blow, the missile connected with its side, blowing out its right leg and arm, and exposing the side of its cockpit to the vacuum of space. Still alive but limping, its main thrusters flared and failed, as the pilot attempted to use its remaining leg and maneuvering thrusters to guide it out of the battlespace.

Cannon rounds splashed across the damaged Hardballer across the cockpit as Clara came roaring back into the fight. The Hardballer shuddered, thick black smoke venting from torso of the stricken MAS as began to visibly move across the torso. The heavy MAS vanished in a sudden flash of light as the engine finally exploded, venting burning fuel and shrapnel into space.

"Zoom reporting two Hardballers down, no damage," Clara said as she looped the Peregrine around to follow Ingram. She lowered her throttle, matching the slower speed of the heavily modified Sparrow, and taking a slow, tired breath as the speed of the Peregrine finally stopped punching her in the chest. "I'm on you, Boss."
In Priest and Hawthorne Investigations: A Modern Fantasy Adventure! → 3 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Loving these character sheets!

Reading them has inspired to write some more IC scenes for Val!
In Dead in Depression - A Red Markets Quest → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
1d20: 8

1d20: 9
In Priest and Hawthorne Investigations: A Modern Fantasy Adventure! → 3 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Needs some editing, but here's my first attempt at this character:

In Dead in Depression - A Red Markets Quest → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
The party assembles:

[X] - A dog and a mousy looking girl currently wrestling with one another for dominance. The dog eventually ends up winning, covering his opponent in a mass of black fur and drool.
In Dead in Depression - A Red Markets Quest → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
[X] - A pistol.

Small(ish), goes bam, overall a good choice I think.



[X] - You just didn’t manage to salvage your priceless UbiqSpec Slivers. You have over a terabyte of articles and databases stored on these hard drives and you weren’t going to leave it for the spooks to take.

A good journalist needs good data.



[X] - Your landlord can tone the price down a little. Can’t he? [Persuasion Check]

We gotta use our charm.


[X] - A snoring old man lazing on a broken down massage chair. He’s currently holding his M1 Garand as if it’s a teddy bear with his prosthetic arm

No elaboration needed, just amazing.
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