- Invitation Status
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- 1-3 posts per week
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- No Preferences
- Genres
- Anything that actually has, you know, a good plot. I prefer RPs with fantastical elements, however, so generally, a bit of fantasy goes a long way.
The intoxicating neon lights dazzle and fascinate, melting into a wall of colors as the night wears on. The heady night air, the new environment, the gaze of the crowd, it all twists and turns and spins and distorts into…
…a sweet and meaty texture. Strange sauces and ingredients, cooked in a foreign fashion, melt together in the lone girl's mouth as she watched the night wear on, couples happily passing by. The night air was enjoyable, and so too were the mellisonant voices carried by the wind. And yet, that bittersweet sensation, that dark, heavy feeling remained. Her vision blurred. Dust in the wind. Not tears. With a finger, she wiped them away…
…to watch his new acquaintance walk off to his doom. Young love was folly, and though that courage was admirable, it was still stupid. From a distance, it was easy to see that his initial efforts would bear no fruit, from the stiffness of his gait to the tone of his voice. Too painful to bear. The clouded night sky would be better. The night sky that was as…
…blue as the glass eyes of that exquisite doll, so meticulously crafted and carefully maintained that its delicate beauty drew the eyes of even its long-term owner. A dark dress to accentuate its porcelain skin. Embroidered frills that caught the fantasies of the beholder when they moved. A mannequin that beckoned others into a phantasmal world of words and ideas as they spun their…
…segmented staff. It danced in figure-eights, before stopped by its master. The two engaged in discourse of weaponry and of regulations, time momentarily forgotten. The crowds began to disappear. The din began to silence itself. The lights began to clear. In that frozen period, they were alone in the world, eyes locking…
…before he broke eye contact. Jumping off really was becoming tempting. Her silence, her dead-eyed expression, her complete lack of reaction were all indications of something amiss. The follow-up died on the tips of his lips. Ah, it really felt bad, didn't it? Under her gaze, muddled only slightly by the weak beer she drank, he could feel the ground beneath him crumble. Could feel gravity pull at him. Could feel everything falling…
Clear water trickles down from the sky in silky streams.
Turquoise pools of water form on the cracked, marble earth.
Jade vegetation creeps up, rising to grasp the sky.
Destitute buildings stand, dilapidating in baleful light.
A white world under a blue sky.
An obelisk from which a tick could be heard. The tick of cogs, of pendulums, of the ornate hands of a clock.
An obelisk, a clocktower without a face.
…a sweet and meaty texture. Strange sauces and ingredients, cooked in a foreign fashion, melt together in the lone girl's mouth as she watched the night wear on, couples happily passing by. The night air was enjoyable, and so too were the mellisonant voices carried by the wind. And yet, that bittersweet sensation, that dark, heavy feeling remained. Her vision blurred. Dust in the wind. Not tears. With a finger, she wiped them away…
…to watch his new acquaintance walk off to his doom. Young love was folly, and though that courage was admirable, it was still stupid. From a distance, it was easy to see that his initial efforts would bear no fruit, from the stiffness of his gait to the tone of his voice. Too painful to bear. The clouded night sky would be better. The night sky that was as…
…blue as the glass eyes of that exquisite doll, so meticulously crafted and carefully maintained that its delicate beauty drew the eyes of even its long-term owner. A dark dress to accentuate its porcelain skin. Embroidered frills that caught the fantasies of the beholder when they moved. A mannequin that beckoned others into a phantasmal world of words and ideas as they spun their…
…segmented staff. It danced in figure-eights, before stopped by its master. The two engaged in discourse of weaponry and of regulations, time momentarily forgotten. The crowds began to disappear. The din began to silence itself. The lights began to clear. In that frozen period, they were alone in the world, eyes locking…
…before he broke eye contact. Jumping off really was becoming tempting. Her silence, her dead-eyed expression, her complete lack of reaction were all indications of something amiss. The follow-up died on the tips of his lips. Ah, it really felt bad, didn't it? Under her gaze, muddled only slightly by the weak beer she drank, he could feel the ground beneath him crumble. Could feel gravity pull at him. Could feel everything falling…
A
P
A
R
T
Falls
The World
The Bell selects
The cogs spin
The scales shift
The pendulums swing
.
.
.
<World Degeneration Initialize>
<World Degeneration Complete>
Debris floats up towards the gray sun.P
A
R
T
Falls
The World
The Bell selects
The cogs spin
The scales shift
The pendulums swing
.
.
.
<World Degeneration Initialize>
<World Degeneration Complete>
Clear water trickles down from the sky in silky streams.
Turquoise pools of water form on the cracked, marble earth.
Jade vegetation creeps up, rising to grasp the sky.
Destitute buildings stand, dilapidating in baleful light.
A white world under a blue sky.
<Destructed World Manifested>
<Destructed World Stabilized>
In the center of the flat world, an obelisk erupts from the marble. An obelisk much too tall, towering above all those tasteless, rectangular slabs called 'buildings'. There are no entrances. No windows. No cracks. Merely a peerless, magnificent, impossible obselisk.<Destructed World Stabilized>
An obelisk from which a tick could be heard. The tick of cogs, of pendulums, of the ornate hands of a clock.
An obelisk, a clocktower without a face.
<Destroy the Targets Within The Time Limit>
<Prove Your Love Is True>
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
<Prove Your Love Is True>
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
