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Topics - Ara

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1
OOC Discussion / Glass Shards
« on: January 27, 2019, 12:38:08 am »


Glass Shards
A decadent, post-apocalyptic, neon-Victorian, dystopian, romance-murder mystery.

Five towers in a wasteland of sandstorms and lightning is all that remains of life in the world. Built before the end. Once owned, then governed—now ruled like kingdoms in the sky.

The floors are counted from the tops down, Floor One being the penthouse and often the last dozen or two buried under the sands. Each Tower drills straight down into a water line and has factories and gardens near the bottom, citizens stacked up a physical hierarchy all the way to the thrones at the top.

Miniature kingdoms. Most of the royals and aristo families have never even been below the twentieth floor. It’s been generations since the world outside was destroyed—history reduced to grim fairytales of monsters and moving darkness swallowing the world. Sandstorms, ash rain and neon lightning often sweep past their plexiglass windows.

Libraries, gardens, cafes and clubs are alive and well and keeping the Upper Five busy. The families owning and ruling each tower consider themselves royalty, their children princes and princesses, and hand out titles to those around them. It’s been a hundred years since the last tower war—a dark decade of bloody betrayal and distrust. Now the Upper Five are at peace, as much as they’ve ever been anyway, and in an effort to promote those connections and good will they send their children to be schooled together in The Garden.

The Garden was originally designed as a meeting place for the Upper Five—a ten story complex of suites, parlors, and ballrooms suspended between the five towers and bridged directly to each. It has been renovated to house the teens and young adults of the aristo families. Sent to live and study there for most of the year, some believe The Garden is just an excuse for the upper families to get rid of their heirs until they’re needed.

Along with royals, the children of the best social climbers have even been admitted, sent to make connections and ensure the elevated status of their families in years to come.

 


-MORE INFO TO COME-

OOC chatter and character sheets to be added below! <3




2
Rules, Guidelines & Site Updates / Obviously Something is Wrong
« on: January 23, 2018, 11:52:50 am »
Okay, so, obviously something is wrong with Para.

The company changed last night. Dior did a back up of the site and contacted the new company to ask if anything would change. They said it wouldn't be a problem but... well. Look at it.

We're on it. Don't panic! Everything is still here it's just ugly.

3
Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Incisors
« on: August 24, 2017, 09:09:07 pm »


August hadn’t moved from her seat in the dining car. Her rose kid gloves were still laid on the edge of the table where she’d placed them while the attendant rambled on about how they’d had to use one of the sleeper cars to house the new staff of the Ételan Academy. They said it was an emergency. She believed them, because why else would they do something so stupid? Logically, she understood. Worse than this would be arriving at their home to find it unmanned. Who would unpack the luggage? But, presently, she was sulking. Of course, Valentina August sulked like she didn’t give a damn anyway.

She sat in her comfy chair like she didn’t realize it would accommodate slouching, because her body had never slouched before and wouldn’t start here. She set the tall, delicate tea cup down on the saucer after a testing sip, steam still rolling off the dark liquid. It rocked back and forth in the cup, gently moved by the constant rattle of the luxury locomotive. Her coat, lined in pale fur, had been shrugged off, pooled behind her and long fingers held up a book.

Her dark, violet eyes cut across the edge of the page to see Emily Toubeline hurry back into the car, looking smug and a little wicked. She didn’t wear the expression right—like a tourist trying to pass as a local—and it grated August. She hurried through the car, from the given away sleeping car on one side to the ones on the other housing their student body. She had been on a mission to gather intel for her friends. Again, tourist. August had acquired all the information before settling into her seat.

The old staff had fled their Academy after one went missing. The vanished maid was surrounded by speculation. They’d spent two weeks trying to find the woman while the rest of them celebrated yule. One by one, they’d slipped away—leaving for fear that something wicked was in the forest. Superstitious and foolish. They’d be hard pressed to find better employment, especially now. The new staff was enthusiastic to take up their new posts—opportunities like this didn’t come around often. Most were born into the position.

August was about to touch and turn another page when she realized her gaze at followed Emily to the other end of the room, locking on the cluster of students sitting there nearest the door.

Ezekiel was grinning. Not at her, of course, but at his friends. It was a bright gesture, full of honesty and just a hint of cleverness. She couldn’t hear their exchange of words from where she sat, but she could see the ease with which he spoke and the way he leaned back and to the side in his chair. Oversized gray sweater with a neck so wide it showed off the shape of his collarbones and the start of freckles that spread beneath across his shoulders. His little sister sat like a lump next to him, ill-fitting to the group as always. She chewed a pink lip and watched the others uncomfortably through her thick lashes.

August hated them both. She had since the day the arrived. Ezekiel was unyieldingly happy with himself and his life and Percy was weak. Most of all, though, she despised them for being a part of the pack. That was what the other students had started calling them at some point. Someone swore they heard them call themselves that once and it just stuck. For some reason, that particular group were friends—separate from everyone else. August suspected it of being a secret club of some kind—not too terribly uncommon. She was in a few herself. But she couldn’t figure out what group they were or why. They didn’t seem to fit one another—not really. And yet the pack never fractured. There were no falling outs. There were no exiles or new members unless they arrived at the Academy new as well.

His pale blue eyes looked back at her. Another girl might have flushed or blushed, but not August. She stared back, expecting him to look surprised or turn away but he didn’t. Ezekiel Castellano, Duke of Loyala, smiled at her with maddening ease, as though they were old friends and staring what neither abnormal nor bothersome. And then he went back to talking to his friends.

Yes. She hated him.


4
OOC Discussion / Incisors
« on: August 21, 2017, 05:57:43 pm »
Incisors


There are no acceptance letters to the Etelan Academy. No applications or bright upbeat webpages or even pictures. If you're in, it's because your parents knew the right people and you were always meant to go there. Just about every student is a legacy and most are the heirs to fortunes if not thrones. The year round academy is located in the castle d'Etalen, refurbished to accommodate the students and tucked away in a deep forest along a lush mountain range.


For the security of the students, the castle itself has long since been removed from maps and records and all travel to and from is kept off the books.

Tucked away in a tiny country long forgotten and carefully folded under the protection of France, the only way to reach the Etelan Academy is via the Empire Express, a train with no real record or travel log, just a pass to move without question across Europe. Along the way it transports and drops off the students of the Etelan Academy and no one else.

The students bring with them plenty of baggage, but are not allowed to bring their own staff or guards for the safety of others.


More info to come! I might have gotten carried away making banners...

ATTENTION: Verse and Jillibean! Toss up a post right away to add your characters to later so they all stay at the top! It doesn't have to have anything in it right away but just as a place holder. And then we can start OOC chatting!

5
Hype / Vanity in Dust
« on: August 09, 2017, 09:06:43 pm »
I'm published! The book is a dark fantasy called Vanity in Dust. This has pretty much consumed my life for the last year or so but I have grand illusions of getting into some rps now.

Just in case I don't have you on any of my other social medias, here's some links and stuff!

amazon

my webpage


6
OOC Discussion / Talking Lush
« on: May 30, 2017, 03:52:13 pm »


OOC for Lush Lacerations


For plotting and character sheets for a thread about spoiled rich kids in an adorable ocean side town with picnics and sails and a murderer.


For character sheets-

throw in some secrets, best friends, enemies, hobbies, and anything the other kids should know or have heard about them. It's a small town of gossips, they should all know each other to some degree.

7
Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Contessa Bleeding
« on: April 18, 2017, 09:27:01 pm »


Luna Contessa was the largest colony on the moon, the very first successful and now, decades later, a complete clusterfuck of the best and worst mankind could offer. It boasted the greatest technology from the legal products just hitting the market, the mechanics that drive every inch of the streets and skyscrapers, to the cutting edge leaked tech and illegal trial runs.

At the right rotation, the gleaming white towers of Contessa seem to stretch toward the green and blue marble of Earth as they pass by. The city was sculpted in white and gray, made to go unnoticed by Earth so as not to alter their view of the sky, but it fast became Earth’s obsession. All of their films and programs take place on Contessa—a caricature of the true city. At the tops of those towers live the wealthy, abandoning the toxic mass of Earth for the controlled climate of Contessa. But at the bottoms, against the grind of the streets where all their favorite products are transported back and forth between factories, ship yards, and towers, thrive the cast offs and working force of Contessa. Earth says Contessa is the corrupt pearl of mankind, gleaming and beautiful, the place where everything can be found, and they’re not wrong.

Benecia LaPenn came to Contessa as a child with bright eyed upper middle class parents looking to work their way to a better life. They’d put her in all the right schools, made all the right friends, and launched her toward one of those towers. But somehow things didn’t quite go as planned. She’d been within reach of a degree in engineering when she disappeared. She still remembered the day she saw him at a party she shouldn’t have been at. He’d told her that laws were prisons and crime was the only way to freedom. She hadn’t cared about freedom until he spoke of it in those romantic notes of smoke and youth.

Benecia’s thoughts strayed to him still sometimes, lifetimes later. She ran through the marble of white and gray fog that coated the streets of Contessa that morning. Not a rare weather occurrence, one they chose to work under frequently. It bought them hours more to any night of cloaked misbehavior. She had one gloved hand clamped over her arm, trying to push the blood back in maybe. “Open,” Benny exhaled the command when she neared the wall at the base of the shipyard. The sound of vessels lifting off and landing was always present, the flare of their engines barely piercing the fog.

The metal of the wall shimmered in reply, the same violet blue as the light that shone in one of her eyes. She stood in the doorway when the two men following her rushed past, one carrying the limp body of Chio. She looked like a child in his arms and Benny didn’t like it. The door closed behind them, shutting out the fog and leaving them in the metal innards of their hideout—her home. Tebian, the big guy with the shoulders and the mechanical arm, carried the woman in his arms straight for the infirmary. It was a habit, maybe, because there was nothing in that well stocked minihospital, not even the surgical machines, that could help her. Benicia knew, because she’d tried everything. Almost everything.

Carson hovered close by, his bright pink hair stuffed under his drawn hood and his eyes flashing back and forth from her face to her bleeding arm. He was still shaking from the adrenaline of their getaway. The job went south fast, just as fast as it took Chio to crash and collapse. “It’s fine!” Benny snapped at him when he parted his lips, before he could get out words. He quickly closed his mouth, silver eyes big, fingers anxiously curling around the length of his sleeves in his palms. She took a breath and shook her head apologetically. She would have liked to claw her dark hair away from her face but streaking it with blood would probably only make him look more worried. It was a flesh wound. She’d have it healed in an hour, just as soon as she calmed herself enough to follow the other two into the infirmary.

She closed her violet eyes and took a slow, calming breath. She was really just stalling, wasn’t she? What choice did she have? “Okay.” Benny exhaled.

Carson nodded slowly, but waited for her to give the order.

“Go get him.”

Carson ducked, almost a bow, and then vanished. He was quick and silent on his feet—a true pickpocket. The kind of thief that came and went with what he wanted long before anyone noticed. His only trouble had been falling in with the wrong crowd. She’d won him off a gang on the forty-fourth quarter slums more than a year back.

Benny took another breath, looking around their little hideout of loot and illegal tech. He had never been here before. She’d built it after he left—when she had to start over. She had the delusion that he didn’t know where it was, that he couldn’t find it or her. Maybe because the idea that he couldn’t find her was more comforting than knowing he just didn’t want to.

She let go of her wound, finally just letting it bleed, and walked down the dimly lit hall into the bright white infirmary. Tebian had laid Chio out on the table in the middle of the room and was leaning against the counter now, looking gloomy as fuck. Benny didn’t bother asking why. He was sour about the job gone wrong, and about the one that went wrong before it, and about the one that would go wrong next time Chi/00 had a glitch or a crash. He looked across the room at Benecia and his dark eyes said enough. “Get gone if you want.” She walked around the foot of Chio’s bed and pulled off her gloves, dumping them blood in the sink before rolling her shoulders out of her jacket.

“I know you’re soft on her—” He stopped talking when she picked up the gadget that would burn her wound shut, the one he’d seen her use once to burn another man’s mouth shut. She looked up long enough to see that he remembered it.

“She’s family, Teb. If you want to take work elsewhere for a while, I’ll give you a call when I have something for you again.” It was the best out she could offer him. Better than most groups would give considering how much he knew about how she did things and what kinds of jobs she took.

He nodded slowly and took the other way around the bed to leave the room. “Vash isn’t going to be happy we botched another job.” He mumbled before disappearing down the hall. He wouldn’t leave. She knew it because this was the first place he’d ever had a home. He liked to fall back on hard behavior and cut throat ways, but he was more afraid of living that way again than riding out the unknown with her.

She pulled her shirt off over her head and leaned against Chio’s bed while burning the shallow wound shut. She had a dozen more like it, each with a story. Some were cherished tales of success or failure, others were memories she wished to erase but never quite got around to getting the scars removed. She didn’t look down at Chio. She couldn’t. When she wasn’t awake she just looked…empty. But Benny couldn’t leave her alone either.

8
Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Season of ✝he Ghos✝
« on: October 15, 2016, 09:03:18 pm »

“It happens every ten years,” Ashley said casually, sitting on the front desk of the freshmen class with too many awkward, round, preteens staring at her with their greasy faces and tacky costumes. Her polished, flat, black shoes kicked back and forth—white stockings up to her knees with little blue bows at the sides.

“A ghost slips in to one of the classrooms of Whitehall Valley High, desperate to be with other children, desperate to have friends and to feel alive again. And the students of the class don’t even notice, thinking the ghost is really one of them all year until that night… until this night.” Her voice pitched, those eyes widening with their white contacts over once brown irises. Her blue dress was soaked in blood across the front, practically black at her middle.

“You see. It’s tradition to put up class photos on Halloween at Whitehall.” She touched the big, glossy photo laying on the desk beside her of all those fresh faces. “And that’s when the ghost realizes it’ll all come to an end—sooner or later, all of their friends will forget them the way the living always do and it just can’t let that happen. So…” Her voice dropped, her legs stopped kicking, and her body leaned forward toward all of those captivated children. “The ghost kills them, one by one, to keep all of their friends trapped here forever.”

Several let out little laughs and heaves of breath. One sassy thing even stood up, hand to her hip in her witch costume. “That’s not true! Where would the ghost even come from?”

The others started whispering about Rosalind Meyers.

“This school is full of ghosts. Some say they even take your form and steal your life!” Ashley looked up toward the door just then, eyes wide and mouth dropping before she pointed and let out a shrieking scream that had all the kids jumping to their feet. There in the doorway stood her own double, in the exact same outfit and lenses and perfectly shoulder length brown hair. The class went into a new set of screams before Ashley and Amanda, in the doorway, exploded with giggles.

A rainbow haired girl pushed in past Amanda to look at the classroom of Halloween clad kids and the shoot Ashley a firm glare. “You’re supposed to be upstairs!” Charlotte berated, holding the door open and standing her ground until the two wicked seniors marched out. Charlotte had been at the school since morning doing all sorts of games and events for the younger students—which were finally winding down now that they were prepping for the senior party upstairs and more and more of the older students were arriving.

Charlotte skirted into the classroom after the other two had left. She’d colored her once blonde hair into a rainbow ombre and glued a spiraling, glittery horn to the top of her forehead. Her fake lashes were white and big and matched the layer of body glitter she’d smeared her face, neck, chest and arms in. After that, it was just a matter of a white top and white jeans. The only pair she had, had torn knees so she’d even smeared glitter on her kneecaps. “Sorry about that. It’s really just an old story. I’ve been here all four years and nothing spooky has ever happened… aside from Ashley and Amber.” Some of the kids smiled. “Have fun trick-or-treating tonight you guys! Enjoy it because in a couple years you’ll be too old and have to hang out at lame parties at the school instead!” Their spirits lifted and she whisked back out of the room to let them finish gathering their things.

She made her way up the old stairwell, orange and black streamers and fake cobwebs everywhere. The fourth floor of the school house was for the senior students and so she and the rest of the senior class committee had spent the whole morning decking it out with decorations, haunted class rooms, games, a dance room with a strobe light, and trays of themed foods.

Charlotte tugged her phone from her jeans pocket and started snapping pictures of her hard work before the rest of the class arrived and they turned out the lights to really get the effect. They'd even painted on the walls and floors with glow in the dark paint. She had to blow on her phone to try to get some of the glitter off of it, at least enough so the touchscreen would work. Tonight was going to be great. No one would ever forget it.



9
OOC Discussion / Written in Ash OOC
« on: September 23, 2016, 12:23:08 pm »


Patience Town Registery

Peter & Constance Thomas - respectable farmers
children:

Tobias - 18
Frances - 17
James - 17
Elinor - 16
Henry - 14
Millicent - 12
Alice - 8

Michael & Mary Nathaniel - gunsmith/silversmith
children:

Lucy 4
Rose 2


John & Hope Carson
children:

Sarah 16
Abigail 14
Andrew 13
Hester 11
Roger 2

Jacob Lorell - widowed - Carpenter
children:

Nicholas 18
Prudence 9

Jason & Charity Higgins - Grocer

Emily Harken 15











10
Freestyle Roleplay / Written in Ash
« on: September 23, 2016, 12:00:02 pm »

Chapter One




Elinor stood in the window, long fingers holding back the lace curtain. It was finer than anything in her whole homestead but it didn’t interest her at all. Morning light soaked her pale cheeks, high cheekbones pulling the skin into almost sharp angles. She was striking, very nearly too much so but she had a delightful habit of ducking her head and looking up through her lashes that made up for the strength of those bones. Pale gray eyes looked out into the yard of the Nathaniels home.

She came here often, to check on the sickly Mrs. Nathaniel. She was a fragile creature and bearing her first two children had nearly killed her. Two little girls, fat things with pouty lips and round cheeks. They had pretty golden curls like their father. Elinor rejoiced in brushing out those curls on the girls before tucking them under their bonnets.

Elinor had arrived at the Nathaniels home with the first rays of the sun, a blessing as his wife put it, with a basket of buns and meat pies for the girls and tea for Mrs. Nathaniel. The Carson family just down the road would send one of their own daughters daily to tend to housekeeping for the Nathaniels and mind the little ones—it was the girl’s job. But Elinor stopped in out of kindness, worth oh so much more. Not only did it make Mr. Nathaniel aware of her good nature and cooking, it made her mother and father proud because they cared so very much for the community of Patience. Her father, Peter Thomas, was a pillar of the village even if he and his large family lived just outside it on their farm. Peter Thomas himself had seen Patience through many hard winters, careful to see that no family went without.

Mrs. Nathaniel coughed, a wet dangerous sound, and drew Elinor’s eye from the yard where Mr. Nathaniel was chopping wood, thin shift already sweaty and clinging to muscles. She smiled softly and picked up the cup of tea from the table, coming around the bed curtain to help Mrs. Nathaniel take a sip. “You are such a very fine girl,” Mrs. Nathaniel whispered, tired even at dawn. “Thank you so much for looking after us as you do.”

Elinor shushed her tenderly, sixteen and nursing the twenty-year-old with motherly care. Her own mother had birthed twelve children—Elinor the fourth. Seven of them still lived and Elinor had seen much mothering in her years. She’d done plenty of it herself. “Just rest yourself and be well again soon.” Mrs. Nathaneil’s thin mouth pressed with a smile when she laid back, nodding, eyelids heavy. She thought she was keeping a secret but Elinor could practically smell it on her. She was pregnant again, so desperate to give her beloved a son that she was taking herself to the grave. It wasn’t the smell of pregnancy and life that hung in the room around her—it was the heavy fragrance of death.

Elinor stood, put down the tea on the bedside table and smoothed her heavy, dark skirts. Mrs. Nathaniel wouldn’t survive another birth and Elinor need not do anything but wait. She picked up her basket, now light without the breads and pies. She kissed the girls playing under the kitchen table, and then left. The Carson girl was already coming down the street, looking rumpled and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Elinor paused in the yard to tell Mr. Nathaniel she was heading on and that Mrs. Nathaniel had gone back to sleep. He lifted one arm and used his sleeve to rub the sweat from his hard jaw. Michael Nathaniel could easily pay someone else to cut his firewood, but he was the sort of man who thought hard work cleared the mind and cleansed the body. “Thank you, Elinor,” he huffed, winded, cheeks flushed and gold locks sweaty. She tipped her head to the side, blushing with discomfort at his gratitude. Men and women alike enjoyed that expression, and Elinor enjoyed their good graces.

“Elinor! Mr. Nathaniel!” A voice called from behind and she turned, shoulder and cheek, to look back at the road. Her two eldest brother’s, Tobias and Frances, came up the road with one of the family carts and horse. She smiled brighter, giving Mr. Nathanial a quick bob of a curtsey before hurrying over to the little dirt road and her brothers. “We’re fixing the fence on the north edge. Mr. Carol said it was looking weathered,” Tobias explained, smiling with his wide lips and pretty teeth.

Frances leaned over the edge toward her. “And we wouldn’t want any wolves coming in to snatch you up,” he added with a flare of delight. He always liked a good story. She gasped in pretend fright and Tobias swatted his brother’s arm, giving him a scolding glare.

Tobias looked down at her from where he sat on the bench of the cart with the reins. “Would you like a ride, Elinor? Where are you off to now?”

“I was going to check in on uncle Edmund and aunt Rebecca.”

“You mean you were going to see if Isabelle could come out and play,” Frances jabbed slyly.

“We aren’t children anymore, Frances. We don’t play.”

Frances smiled, already moving to the back of the cart. “You’re so happy doing everything that even chores look like games.”

Tobias reached down and she took his arm, holding her skirts up and in her other hand, basket looked into the crook of her arm. Elinor hopped up into the cart and settled herself on the bench seat. “I think that’s a compliment,” she thought aloud.

Tobias nodded. “It certainly is.” He gave the reins a sharp whip and the big, brown horse trotted forward.

It took effort, but she didn’t look back to see if Mr. Nathaniel had been watching. She wouldn’t be seen making eyes with him, not while his wife was still clinging to life. She smiled softly at the sleepy town of Patience as they road through it at a slow pace. Soon enough Mr. Nathaniel wouldn’t be married at all and she could make eyes all she liked.


11
Hype / Thinking of You
« on: March 15, 2016, 04:51:35 pm »
Saw this picture and thought of someone specific and then realized there was no thread for that. So I guess this is it! For giving someone a picture? Yes! It's worth it!

Krystal, I found this and knew it was for you.
  :redheart:


12
Fan-Based Roleplay / Hogwarts & The Society of Teeth
« on: January 21, 2016, 02:21:14 pm »

Demetria was hated. It wasn’t some sad teen notion or problem of the day. It was a fact of life at this point. She was a sixth year, porcelain skinned with lips painted like a doll. Her hair was curled in thick rings of auburn and clothes in perfect, pressed order. Fingers turned another page of the large book laid out and open on the library table in front of her. She picked up her quill and dabbed the ink before making more notes. She never smudged. Not the paper or her fingers. Not anything. Not ever.

If she wasn’t so dedicated to her role she might have looked up when sound erupted from one end of the library. Nero and three of his closest friends—also Gryffindors, practically stumbled into the large room of books and students. They were met with a harsh warning and Nero smiled brightly, lifting an apologetic hand to the librarian and swatting one of his friends with the other to shush them.

Demetria closed her book and stood. She collected her things and pretended not to notice the stretches of empty seats around her, while students crowded in the other spaces of the room. She understood, of course. Nero had made sure she took the blame for a number of horrible acts these past years. Fear was the best way to create solitude. Solitude. It wasn’t even exactly true. She had companions, but they were wicked hearted, members of her own house. They believed she had committed terrible crimes. They believed she was vengeful and evil and welcomed her with open arms. She never went without when she kept to her own house.

She let her dark eyes drift over Nero when she passed him on her way for the door. He was like a walking sun, bright and warm with life gathering around him. She felt like the moon, banished when he entered, cold and gleaming in the dark. Even their parents believed he was a shame to their pure bloodline, soft hearted and good natured and sympathetic to the plight of the mudbloods.

Demetria left the library, the heels of her boots making soft sounds on ancient floors, skirts long and blouse pressed. Her green bowtie was perfectly straight and her pack hung with books and quills over her shoulder. Maud and Crillin squealed when they saw her, hurrying to join her. Maud hissed about how they had thought she’d be late for class. Crillin sucked sugar from her black painted nails and asked what class. Demetria ignored them but let them walk her down the long corridor. They were the best she had in friends and she wouldn’t be fool enough to trust either with a sharp object and her back. Maybe that was what being Slytherin was.

She heard Nero laughing, that warm jovial sound, echoing out the library doors before they swung shut. She wondered then, not for the first time, if that had been his plan all along—to give her no choice but to be wicked. Was she wicked? Was it enough that everyone believed it? It would be easy to give in to it, wouldn’t it? Then why had she resisted all these years? What would he do if she made it through her last years without folding to the nature of their bloodline?

Demetria parted ways with Crillin and Maud when she reached the set of twisting, uneven, stairs that led up to her sixth year Potions class. Neither Crillin nor Maud had made it in to that particular level and shuffled off toward Herbology. They were both repeating. Neither girl was all that dumb but they had a joint dislike of studying that Demetria had witnessed developing into a miniature revolt over the years. Leave it to those two to revolt against knowledge.

Despite her love of classes, Demetria dreaded this one. There was no escaping that familiar face, that first mistake, first friend, first rumored crime. She tipped her chin high and pushed the door open.


13
OOC Discussion / HP thread! Interested?
« on: January 05, 2016, 02:54:25 pm »

I want to do a Harry Potter thread! Okay, but minus Harry Potter himself. I’d like to do it prePotter, if that works for anyone else interested. I'm thinking Victorian Era!



I imagine it'll be mostly character driven school drama but I think every story needs some antagonists so one of my ideas for this is to have a secret and evil society lurking about the school with student members. I’m going to call it the Society of Teeth and members have predator totems, sometimes wearing them in the form of rings or cuff-links or whatnot to distinguish themselves to other members—but of course students and teachers not in the society wouldn’t recognize them as anything special.

Of course, things have to get out of hand. So maybe the society has particularly volatile plans this term or someone finds out about them—getting suspicious—and they go to terrible lengths to keep their secret.

Ideas are welcome!

I've already been working on some characters.

Sound off if you have any interest in joining and I'll start tossing up character sheets and we can pan out the details together!

14
Hype / Important Questions!
« on: January 04, 2016, 11:01:23 pm »
When you eat a cinnamon bun, do you bite into it or do you unravel it?  :donut:

15
Hype / Happy Holidays, Paragraphites!
« on: December 12, 2015, 06:24:44 pm »
I hope that you all get to do something wonderful this holiday season, whether it's with family or in blissfull solitude! I'm looking forward to another year with all of you on this forum!

:candycane: :candycane: :gift: :gift: :frosty: :gift: :gift: :candycane: :candycane:

Anyone given any thought to their New Year's resolutions yet? Any general year plans/goals?

16
Hype / If
« on: October 05, 2015, 05:11:43 pm »
If you could live in a fictional world, not of your own creation, which world would it be and why?

17
Hype / Stuff that makes you smile
« on: August 06, 2015, 08:30:17 pm »
When I sent Verse an email telling him I wanted him to make coleslaw this weekend and I recieving THIS in reply:

Order taken.

 
Thank you for using Verse InCorp Ind for your slawy needs.

We always deliver on time*

We know you have a choice concerning your slawy needs and appreciate you choosing Verse InCopr Ind.

Signed (though not personally, this is a form letter, after all)

Verse VEO VIP CEO BEAU of Verse InCorp Ind


*provided you, the costumer, provide ample reminders and all the ingredients as well as kitchen space

18
Hype / Confessions
« on: July 21, 2015, 02:14:44 pm »
Sometimes I feel the need to blurt out odd but true things about myself when I realize them. Anyone else have that?


Anywho, I totally listen to Nicki Minaj when I need an fast boost on my mood. It's so effective that I might actually buy a cd. And yes, I still buy cds because I still don't like itunes and I live in one of those countries where amazon won't let me buy mp3s.

Oh, and last summer my mother-in-law bought me some sort of berry pie from a McDonalds that I was crazy prepared to hate but loved. The kind of loved where you hope they won't make it anymore because you know you shouldn't eat it. I don't even know what kind of berry it was supposed to be, but I ate three.

 :ninja: truth ninja

19
Rules, Guidelines & Site Updates / Requests/Suggestions
« on: July 15, 2015, 08:13:35 am »
Hello, Parapeople!

It's been almost two years since we started this forum (september 14th being our birthday) so I've been going over the original "guidelines" threads in the forums. I also added a Fan-Based forum as was long ago requested by someone.

So, if you have any similiar requests or suggestions for the forum you want to toss out there, we're all ears! You guys have made this forum an incredibly fun place, so we want to know what you think. It might not happen right away, but there's no harm in throwing around some thoughts.

 :redheart: ara

20
Fan-Based Roleplay / Fan-Based Guidelines!
« on: July 15, 2015, 07:54:48 am »
Welcome to Fan-Based Roleplay!

It's pretty self-explanatory but if you're not sure if your story fits here, just consider where you got the idea. If it came from a book, series, movie, video game, or comic book it probably belongs right here.

Our few but mighty forum rules apply. And, as always, if you have any questions feel welcome to pm me!

21
Hype / Distractions
« on: July 10, 2015, 05:16:09 pm »
Since we now have a goals thread, lets also have a distractions thread. What do you do when you know you should be working on your goals? I think we all have specific places we go when we're looking to procrastinate. What's been yours recently?

I'll admit, after trying to resist, I took up watching a kdrama this week. I haven't watched asian dramas in quite some time because they tend to be really absorbing. When I'm procrastinating and wanting drama I usually, no joke, youtube General Hospital. I've watched so much GH in crazy bursts over the years it's ridiculous. I not so secretly wish I could be a script writer for soap operas.

22
Rules, Guidelines & Site Updates / Do you get notices?
« on: June 18, 2015, 07:29:35 am »
I'm looking for a raise of hands sort of thing here. I haven't been getting the email notices for threads I'm subscribed to and it turns out neither has Verse. Anyone else not getting them?

23
Rules, Guidelines & Site Updates / Updating forum!
« on: May 20, 2015, 05:27:17 pm »
Do to some issues brought to our attention on the forum, we're going to create a new back up today and then update the site to the newest version available (we're only one version behind the latest but hopefully the update will solve some of the glitches users are experiencing).

As always, if you experience glitches let us know. If something crazy, like the site going wonky, occurs try not to panic overmuch. At least not until we tell you it's time to panic.  :bandage:

Commencing backup/updating!

Cross your fingers. Hold your thumbs. Think good thoughts.


 :goldenflower: :redheart::goldenflower: :redheart:




24
Hype / Anthologies
« on: April 06, 2015, 04:02:29 pm »
So, I periodically look for anthology calls to submit to even though I am terrible at short stories. I tend to come up with ideas that either turn into something bigger than a short story, or never quite get done. But I figure, in case anyone else is interested in trying to get a short story published, I'd put up some of the links I've come across here. Anyone else that finds similar things is welcome to post them too.

Gothic Blue Book looking for "a story or poem taking place in a haunted hotel, inn, or bed and breakfast". Horror. Deadline: August 15th. Click the link to check out more details.

Frozen Fairy Tales looking for fairytale style fantasies with a winter theme. Deadline: May 15th 2015. Click the link for the details.

Sirens an upcoming anthology looking for speculative short stories about sirens. Opens from August 15th - November 15th 2015.

Dark Markets also has a list of anthologies. Mostly horror but with speculative thrown in the mix if you want to go searching.

25
Hype / Publishing/Querying
« on: March 29, 2015, 05:42:13 pm »
I know some of you have works in progress outside of rping and thought I'd ask if anyone has ever had anything published or undergone the gauntlet of sending out query letters to publishers or agents? Or even what sort of projects you're working on if you are. What genres? How far along are you? How is it going?

I've done some agent hunting in the past for a series I started but it grew halfhearted after a number of rejections (some very polite and some just the silence that comes after sending in a query). This year I rededicated myself to the task and really embraced the fact that being published is something I want for myself and my work and believing that I deserve that.

My own update- My book is currently being considered by the publisher I've been courting, they requested to see the full manuscript and I am dangerously hopeful. If this doesn't pan out though, I plan to go back to agent hunting because, at the very least, this particular experience has given me more confidence in my query letter and manuscript.

So, what about the rest of you?

26
Hype / Happy New Year!
« on: January 01, 2015, 02:56:31 am »
Happy New Year!  :redheart:

Any great moments or accomplishments of 2014 you want to share?

Resolutions?


As far as moments of 2014 for me it would have to be my mom's visit and Verse proposing. It's been a good year and I have no complaints.

Would really like to get something published in 2015. I think that would be my great goal of this new year.
 :goldenflower:

27
Rules, Guidelines & Site Updates / Para Updates!
« on: December 27, 2014, 12:29:39 pm »
We're planning to run updates on the site today. Hopefully you will all be asleep for it. Think happy thpughts and hold onto your hats!

28
Hype / Holiday Plans?
« on: December 18, 2014, 09:59:25 pm »
What are you up to, paragraphites? Any standing traditions? Favorite foods? Things that make it feel like a holiday season for you?

 :christmastree: :gift: :candycane: :frosty:

We have this hot wine stuff in Sweden that I hated my first year here but that I've really come to love. Had the first cup of it today (at an archery christmas party- yes, that happened) and it tasted like christmas. There's also a special soda that comes out here every holiday season called julmust which is pretty much "christmas soda".

29
Epicenter / High Crime
« on: November 03, 2014, 01:10:15 pm »
Wanted to play a little more with this character and world so if anyone wants to jump in they're welcome!

Win wasn't hung over, but she was tired. It had been a good weekend, the kind that didn't end in satisfaction but in bitter contempt that only got worse the deeper the cold burrowed into her jacket. Long legs clad in dark denim brought her up the narrow street and around the corner. She wasn't wearing a hat. It wasn't even snowing yet and some part of her refused to admit that she needed a hat before it did.

The store front of High Crimes was tall window cluttered with stacks of books, a sign, and a narrow green door pressed into the stone building, three steeps steps up from the sidewalk. It was the kind of bookstore that didn't want you any more than you wanted it. She pulled at the door and groaned when it was still locked. She didn't have to look at her watch to know that it should have been open an hour ago.

She fished her keys out of her pocket and unlocked the door, taking out the open sign and setting it on the nail that marred the green of the door. She was half out of her coat and across the shop when she noticed the man sitting in the plush chair beside one of the shelves. She sucked in air and her whole body jerked to a stop in surprise. The breath hissed out between her teeth when she recognized the old man. "You could have opened the damn store if you were here!" Her tension eased into a shout, arms tossing her jacket behind the counter angrily now before flicking on the lights.

They came to life all around, illuminating all of the nooks this stockade of books had to offer, little sitting areas here and there, tucked all around before the shelves. Everything came to life except Mr. Jacks, the owner, who stayed sitting in his favorite chair, head lulled to the side and chin pressed into his sweater.

He was pushing ninety and despite a few offers, continuously refused to sell his shop. She stomped over to his chair in her boots before noticing the book he had dropped on the floor. He wasn't moving and her chest tightened with new panic. "Jacks." Win called, sounding skeptical. He didn't move. She reached out to touch his shoulder and his whole body came to life at once, jumping in his seat and lifting his head, sputtering with sound. She whirled away from him with a string of curses. "Damn it! If you're going to work up a death can you do it someplace where I don't have to find you?" She shook out her arms as though to shake off the gross before setting herself to the morning tasks.

She started with taking down all of the Halloween decorations, tearing them down from the walls and shelves.

Jacks coughed and stood up from his chair with enough effort and time that she was done demolishing the holiday by the time he did. "Take care! We can use those next year!" He snapped, moving his lips around as though rediscovering his own teeth. Dark eyes and gray hair, he started the slow shuffle toward the coat wrack.

"You said we were closing this year!" Winifred retorted. He waved a hand back at her angrily. He said they were closing every year and she had yet to see it happen. She was behind the desk, checking the old monster of a register when he managed to pull on his coat, a shaking hand going after his hat. He wasn't the kind of man that wore a knit hat. No, he wore a real hat, hand-made he said. She pointed out that her hat was handmade as well, knitted it her damn self, but he had just scoffed at that last year.

She smirked when she watched the old man leave, deciding then what she would give him for christmas this year. Last year had been coal.


30
Hype / All Time Favorite Movie?
« on: November 03, 2014, 08:08:52 am »
I'd like to say something scary or cool or maybe even one of those movies no one has ever hear of, but it'd be a terrible lie.

My all time favorite movie, hands down, every time, is Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves with Kevin Costner. I've been in love with that movie since I was seven. I used to turn the volume down when Marion would scream because it was too loud for me when I was little.

What about you? No fibbing!


 :peppergreen:

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