It's not easy being a writer AND a witch...
Follow my adventures on Twitter @MenaGrazie and my employer, the Preternatural Post at http://www.preternaturalpost.com.
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Or worse, what if you are running both the characters who are fighting?
bloodyduchess:
what if the assholes who are fighting are both ran by the same person? @abel_arroyo @AgentVenom
fyeahroleplayingrabbit:
It’s absolutely the worse. I belong to a small group with two other RP partners, and it was absolutely the best. We were always talking and roleplaying with each other and having fun. Even when I wasn’t roleplaying with one of them I watched them roleplay, and that was fun too.
But the other two got into a fight and don’t talk to each other anymore. They both went their own ways and I’m still just here. I still talk to both, but I don’t roleplay with them anymore, and I’m left all alone. I miss them so much, I miss them being friends, I miss all the fun we had and the skype calls. I hope they fix things soon, because I can’t stand seeing my two best friends fight.
The Brothers Grimm: Wait…that’s already my life…. <—-Needs new movies
fuckyeahslutpire:
bloodyduchess:
Shame with Fassbender. By God I’m a sexless sex addict!
Garfield. I am okay with having a fat cat and a dumb dog.
(Source: felemea)
Give me any two fictional characters and I’ll tell you which I’d rather date.
No More Burton/Depp Remakes!
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My Dad:
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If Tim Burton directed The Hunger Games he would cast Johnny Depp as Katniss.
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I love this and I am both amused and saddened that it appears the original poster is no longer on Tumblr.
synlet-syndrome:
Today, I finally decided to take note of just how expansive the Tumblr RP community really is; and it’s mind boggling. We have every single fandom, from every single part of the world, every time zone, every type of household, every background, every kind of writing style, language, clique, personality, age, appearance, and health, and we all seem to take it for granted.
There are the Groups, and the Independents. There are the serious, competitive writers, then there are the goofy, flowy writers. Then there are those who don’t talk unless they’re confronted. I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t normally talk to anyone outside my comfort zone. I try to RP with other people, but doesn’t it seem a bit difficult? It’s frightening to make a starter, to begin something you know everyone who follows not only you, but who follows them, will see it. It’s scary, I know, but it’s a good feeling when it turns out right.
Tumblr Role-Players are something of their own. We’re a community, a family, a coercion of best friends and pathetic enemies who fight each others battles and love even when we’re not needed. We update our writing skills from our partners, and constantly ensure they know how much we love them. We don’t know what we’d do without Tumblr, and we’d rather not think about it, but I know for a fact that we’ve all had that panic attack when the “We’re Sorry,” screen appears on our Dashboards on Friday nights, the subliminal fear of never RP’ing again flashing through our minds.
And boy, don’t get me started on the shippings.
Then there’s the fear of your friends finding out; your family, your significant other finding out and freaking out, disowning you, or even committing you. You wouldn’t understand this fear unless you were a role-player- the fear of not being accepted, being disregarded and never talked to. Tumblr is a place where we escape, where great, insane minds who feel they’re alone come and find out that there are hundreds of thousands who are just like them. Tumblr isn’t just a hobby, it isn’t just a social networking sight, it’s home for some people. And there’s no place like home.
(via thewalkingdeadroleplay)
*starts checking for missing persons reports*
bloodyduchess:
Title: The Accident
Prompt #16-Trouble
Characters- @DarlingViolet_, @BenHunter56, and @ShifterDustin
Summary: Violet makes a horrible mistake. (Part 1 of ??)
“What are your plans after work today?”
Dustin sat at the corner of Violets desk as she wrote out the report of her findings….
(via rustedrubies)
Bad things happen to good kids and they become…vampires? Interesting backstory.
goodsamaritan56:
Ben leaned his head against the worn leather upholstery and closed his eyes. Nights like these always reminded him of her. Even after all these years he could still smell the scent of her perfume and feel the soft silky texture of her skin on his finger tips. He should’ve forgotten her by now, the…
(via rustedrubies)
mattcrenshaw:
Jimmy “The Gent” McGinty had cultivated quite an image for himself over the centuries, one of a refined gentleman, a dignified vampire with honor. But that was because he learned long ago that perception is more powerful than reality. At least, in most cases, anyway.
In many ways, McGinty was…
Traitorous Dreams (Irish Witch Hunt Part 3)
Title: Traitorous Dreams
Tarot Card: XII – The Hanged Man
Card Meaning: The Hanged Man may or may not be the worlds first writer. Regardless he is someone who knows the secrets of the written word and has the power to invoke the Norse gods. Generally speaking the Hanged Man is a symbol of contemplation and self-sacrifice. In some cases he may represent a traitor or a complete change in perspective.
Word Count: 988 words
Characters:@CyrusMcCall, @MenaGrazie, Sean
Summary: Sometimes, no matter how far you run, you can’t escape the past. Part 3 of the Irish Witch Hunt SL
A/N: None, really.
A gentle hand swept Sarah’s hair back. Under other circumstances, it wouldn’t have awakened her. But these weren’t ordinary circumstances. Katie was sleeping down the hall and her old friend did NOT look good, no matter what she or her doctors said. So when she felt the whisper touch, she came awake immediately.
“I dinna mean t’wake ye, lass,” Cyrus said with a smile. “Ye look good in red.”
It took her a minute to recognize him and register why he was in her bedroom in the middle of the night.
“What happened?” she asked, scooting over so he could sit down on the edge of the bed. It was a silly thing to do. He didn’t need her to move. He didn’t need to sit down.
“Ah, nothing ye need t’worry about,” he told her. “Me past caught up with me, as ye knew it would.”
Sarah closed her eyes, hiding her reaction. Guilt and pain wouldn’t do him any good and she was carrying around enough of it.
“Rooney?”
Silence was her only answer. She clamped down hard on the anger that boiled up inside her. It served no purpose. Sooner or later, preferably sooner, Rooney would give her a reason to deal with him the way he deserved. Right now, she had other fish to fry.
“Why are you here?” she asked, opening her eyes to find him staring out the window.
He turned and smiled at her.
“Yer in Ireland, where else would I be?”
She found herself smiling back, the logic of his words was undeniable. And she got the distinct feeling that he was happy. She hoped so.
“My…” Cyrus paused and almost swallowed, “people, they told me you had called them, that night the others broke the curse?”
Sarah nodded. She had expected him to die that night, either when the curse broke or at the hands of Conri’s Pack.
“Well an’ they figured if Death’s maid called, ‘twouldn’t be long before Death Herself appeared, so they lingered, ye might say. When it happened, they were with me me and waiting.”
She smiled. At least something had gone right. Everything else was a mess.
“They also tell me ye’re goin’ after the gypsy…”
“Yes,” she said firmly. She wasn’t going to debate this. “Someone willing and able to twist a loup curse has to be dealt with. You were the first but by no means the last she cast it at. And she’s been getting into other mischief as well.”
A shrill cry split the air. There was a banshee out. Cyrus moved back to the window as though the voice had been calling him.
“I can…” he began.
“No, you can’t,” she interrupted. “This is what I do, who I am. I’ll take care of it.”
“Ye don’ have to do it alone,” he argued.
“Yes, I do.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m the one that can walk away,” she said. “And even if I don’t walk away, no one will care, if they even notice.”
“Tha’s na true,” he said laying a hand against her cheek.
“No, but it’s close enough to pass muster,” she smiled and got out of bed.
The nightdress Katie insisted she wear tickled the top of her feet and she went to her briefcase and took out her athame. Taking a moment to focus, she drove it between the veils. Golden light spilled from the gash. She turned to Cyrus, who was watching her with wide eyes.
“What’s this then?” he asked gruffly.
“Your exit.”
“Nah, lass, I have things….”
“No. No arguments. You paid for your mistakes and then some. Lurking around here out of some misplaced sense of debt or obligation is pointless. Yes, you have things to do, but not here. Not now. Go.”
Cyrus looked at her for a long time as if he were waiting for her to change her mind. Long enough that her hand and arm began to tremble from the effort of holding the door open. Finally, when she thought she couldn’t hold it any longer, he nodded and stepped through.
The door shut with a snap and she sank to the floor rubbing her arm.
“So that’s what you were hiding,” a voice from the past said from the shadows.
In one motion, she screamed, jumped up and whirled around, her athmae becoming a much more prosaic weapon for defending herself.
Sean’s voice had lost its Irish burr. It fell across her rattled nerves like satin, cool and soothing.
“I knew there was something, something more than just the witch thing.” he continued.
She swallowed several times before she could speak. It also gave her time to think. Unfortunately, it didn’t give her any answers. His face was hidden in the shadows and she was tempted to reach for the light. She could say she was buying time….
“Don’t,” he said as if he knew what she was thinking.
“Don’t?” she wanted to make sure.
“Don’t. Don’t make excuses or try to justify what you did. Just…don’t.”
He was angry. He had every right to be.
“I was going to,” she admitted.
She felt him smile.
“You wanted to see me.”
She nodded, each time raising her chin a little higher, daring him to…what, she didn’t know.
His hands slid into view, riding his thighs to his knees. He sat up, leaning forward onto his hands. Moonlight fell across a face she would always remember and had intended never to see again. Her eyes drank in the sight like water on parched earth. Which was funny, since she realized she was crying.
“Satisfied?” he asked.
She nodded and turned to put her athame away. Strong arms stopped her.
“I’m not.”
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