Living Lies Through Livid Dreams

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Livid Lies, Nov 18, 2015.

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  1. This is a multi-purpose ad mainly concerned with 1V1's.

    You have a choice between picking a story and/or broad ideas,
    a specific character, or just taking a pre-typed post and winging the rest.

    You can show or confirm interest here, but for any questions or further discussion
    I recommend sending me a private message. Pre-typed posts are PM only and
    do not require extra discussion (as is part of the point).

    This will be my one and only roleplaying ad for 1V1 and is intended
    to be used long-term. Ideas or characters that I've lost interest in
    will be removed from the thread and archived in my blog. This post
    will be updated to include any new ideas on my plate and the thread
    bumped with cliffnotes, so if you don't see anything you like now,
    feel free to check this out again some other time in the future!






    Who, What, and How?
    Feel free to check out my Roleplay Resume or my complete information on my profile page which has been extensively filled as necessary+, but you can ask me anything directly in PM.

    If you want the gist of me, I'm a para+ roleplayer with preference to multiple paragraphs when warranted. I originated from the depths of chat hell, but due to long hiatuses I'm not as quick as I used to be. I prefer to take my time, even if it means taking the entire day to make a single post. I'm not always grammatically correct due to stylistic choices, and I'm not sure if my writing is currently up to par.



    You, Yours, and Us
    Confidence aside, I like partners who can not only write details, but notice them as well. I like partners who like mellow storywriting just as much as or more than action. And most importantly, I like partners that intimidate me to the point that I'm afraid to roleplay with them. But don't let my nervousness fool you, for ultimately my goal is to write better and if you're willing to work with that, then you're exactly what I want.

    I never really know what I want, if only because I'm more interested in the nuances of a character than an epic story. I enjoy plots and battles, but my heart is forever seeking to fall in love with the characters involved, not the myth around them.


    Law, Rule, and Etiquette
    1. Never be afraid to ask me anything.
    2. Nothing is ever absolute, but if I say something, I mean it.
    3. If I don't feel invested in the roleplay, I'll let you know so we can either work out a new strategy or part ways.
    4. I prefer adult partners so that the roleplay is open to intimacy, but will consider teens if you're absolutely dying to try something.
    5. I'm open to any amount of libertine, but I don't make promises.
    6. If you want to write with me but have some ideas of your own instead of the ones here, message me!
    7. I might post multiple times on the same day, or I might post once every week or two. I won't disappear completely without letting you know, so just assume that I'm still working on my post.
    Here Come the Fairy Tales

    Children are the lifeblood of any legacy. Without children, there is no generation or the one thereafter to inherit that legacy. Without children, there is no legacy to work for and no incentive to even begin. We do not build our legacies for those immediately at our level, we build them for those to follow in our footsteps so that they may feel entitled to that which we worked so hard to earn. Yet without those legacies, our children would not know heritage. They would not know pride, nor history, nor discipline.

    So when the roots of certain children are torn asunder--their families cursed, their parents killed, their homes demolished, all by their own hands--it becomes their heavy burden to become their own legacy, a feat designed to be both impossible and inevitable by the dragon bones that occupy them.

    This is the fate the King of Dragons left for the descendants of those who partook in the destruction of his brothers and sisters. He, the Undead Lord, alone could not be killed, but instead of living centuries by himself, he gave his bones to the earth from which his enemies dug to gain his power. His siblings would one day return on their own, to be coughed up by nature at nature's will as newborn hatchlings, and that would mark the return of his reign in the form of the possessed protectors that the world would come to know as the Dragon King's Slayers.

    ( Ideally looking for a male partner interested in playing a potential father figure. )
    Less a story and more a setting that I'm giving a slot to because of a mild interest in what a roleplay of this game would be like. I'm a casual player though, so I'm not really aware of the lore nor can I name and describe most of the monsters off the top of my head, and I certainly don't know about anything exclusive to the previous games in the series.

    Still, if roleplaying in this setting appeals to you (even in a group environment rather than a 1V1) then do contact me.
    The saddest thing is what happens when a mother loses her child to a soul-sucking ex-husband, her house to the bank that has her mortgage, and her family to the shame of having a junkie black sheep. The saddest thing is what happens when a man gambles away all his brother's money, gets his sister beaten as a note that he needs to pay the sharks back, then finds out he has a baby left by a one night stand that died in childbirth.

    The saddest thing is what happens when a person realizes that there is a whole world in front of them, existing solely to keep them barred from any sort of attainable happiness, if only because the world has no place for deadbeats that add nothing valuable to the picture.

    If you knew that you had exactly thirty days to convince someone to turn their life around before they commit suicide, but you were complete strangers...what would you do?

    =-=-=-=-=

    This is a finite roleplay, as well as mildly experimental. The genre and the time period are both adjustable. Characters can be made on the spot. In character days will be counted, and once the thirty days are up, the roleplay will end (with maybe a few more days to enjoy the results).

    Success is not guaranteed. If you are sensitive to the subject of suicide, you may not want to engage. Even if you aren't, the ultimate goal is to convince whatever character I play not to commit suicide before they themselves even realize that they're going to. If it doesn't work out, I am not afraid to give them a tragic ending.




    Be a Creepy Stalker, Baby

    « »
    Liar #1 Lonely Wheels
    Basics

    Name: June Ra
    Age: 47
    Gender: Female
    Occupation: Lampmaker/Artisan
    Vices: Well-guarded. Champagne.
    Quirks: Easily agitated. Confrontational. Tends to read too much into a situation.
    The Woman She's a woman in a wheelchair, with silver-streaked hair that touches her bosom and parts around round shoulders. Her arms like to hide under shawls and other wide covers, while her legs stay tucked under layers that try to make up for the muscle loss--pants/skirt/wrap, leggings/shorts/wrap--but she still manages to dress for the occasion. Make-up is something she almost never touches, but she's a soft-toned Korean with a young complexion marred with beauty wrinkles (when she so dares to smile).

    There's something rigid about the way she holds herself, but her mobility is recklessly fluid. She's a perfectionist, a visionary, and an upholder of making people's lives easier even if it means making other lives miserable. She's a self-preserving business woman, a defiant patient, and most importantly, a single mother who wouldn't hesitate to threaten someone's life if it meant protecting her son.
    The Background She had that perfect guy. She had that perfect dream. She had his perfect kisses, his perfect hands, his perfect promises.

    Then came the baby. Then came the accident. Then came the premature C-section, the SCI, the speech about how life didn't end with the paralysis of her legs, the fight to keep her baby.
    The Future June is not a trauma case. She is not depressed, dramatic, dependent, or in denial. She is every other person in the world, with a history darker than what she plays on stage and a fearsome drive to be more than what she's been. Her parenting days are more or less over, her craft of choice is in high esteem and the income is good, but her son is getting married and various things in her life are coming into question.

    Is her life exciting? Did her love life die in high school? Is she cranky because--as her soon-to-be daughter-in-law put it--she's an old hag who hasn't seen any action in her bed for almost three decades? What will happen to her independence when she has to name someone new her caretaker? Is she independent to begin with, or has she been relying on her son too much after all? Is she ready to accept new family members? Is she ready to let her son go?

    Is she ready for anything?

    Liar #2 A Special Snowflake
    Basics
    Name: Locaine Arretty
    Age: 35
    Gender: Male
    Occupation: Magical Acrobat
    Vices: Cocky. Falls head over heels for the worst kind of women.
    Quirks: Has a tendency to leave his carnival troupe between cities, but always runs back to it.
    Physical Attributes: 5'7". Toned, lithe muscle build. Cold to the touch. Invulnerable to the cold, body temperature adjusts to heat.
    Abilities: Can freeze liquids and gases. Limited ability to affect solids. Requires certain proximity. Outer skin is organically different and maintains elasticity at freezing temperatures.
    Weaknesses: Outer skin acts as a way of trapping body heat in colder climates, but in the desert, larger amounts of water evaporate from him, making him far more susceptible to dehydration. Same in any situation where he has to battle high levels of heat.
    The Man Lo-lo's got a boyish face that has a hard time growing hair, his head is topped with messy blue-black locks, and a handful of small braids dangle in front of his left ear, beaded and wrapped and jingling with bells at the collar bone. The boy's got stormy grey eyes that glisten like pearls and lips forever frosted with cold air. To top it all off, he's always more or less half-naked and hasn't a single visible hair anywhere but where it's most important. He's a child-like man, a beautiful boy, and every giggling girl's dream.

    He's always dressed for a show. White snowflakes are stamped under his eyes and his nails are painted baby blue. There's a rough-edged see-through sky-blue silk scarf hanging from the back of his neck and his torso is framed by a white vest that only covers the small upper part of his back (just above the points of his shoulder blades) then frills under the arms into long single-cornered capes for his sides, his chest completely free. The abdomen is wrapped down to the waist in a satin periwinkle sash that holds up white cotton pants, nonrestrictive and baggy to the knees then tighter below. His shoes are tan, laced tight and padded for performance, and so are his gloves, braced with flexible leather around the wrists and cut off at the fingers.

    Lo-lo is a highly capable individual, disciplined during rehearsals, a crowd-pleaser during performances, and a show-off in the streets. He's great with kids, loves to make fun of the old and cranky, and sometimes forgets to ask how much it costs to fix or buy something. His biggest problem is that he falls in love at the drop of a hat, and always for the kind of woman that's out of his league, powerful, and sometimes sadistic.
    The Background Lo-lo is an orphan with abandonment issues, with no idea why he was left behind in the streets of a city that was too big and too crowded for a boy of 6 to look for his parents. He was always a terrible pickpocket and his pranks had a tendency to backfire, but he was so strangely cheerful that some local guards took a liking to him and his town-hopping days ended.

    He was taken care of like a stray puppy that ran around in circles when tossed scraps, but those were the happiest days of his life. They ended when he turned twelve, and his body started to grow cold. This came with involuntary effects, such as water freezing on his skin and objects becoming brittle in his hands. Eventually the criminal element took notice and when the guards didn't know how to treat him, he abandoned them for the crowd that was ready to adopt him.

    The underground was a mess of foster homes for Lo-lo as he passed from hand to hand, made worse by puberty and a conscience that he kept trying to bury. Eventually his body settled down and the miniature snow fall stopped following him everywhere. Then he found the love of his life, the daughter of a visiting merchant who sold gemstones. She loved emeralds and crimson velvet, was a whipper of horses and secretly detested all her stepmothers. He bought flowers, stole new clothes, and snuck into the carnival show to see her. Their meant-to-be story never happened, but the antics of an icy teenager getting chased by clowns onto the trapeze act was an unforgettable experience.
    The Predicament Lo-lo doesn't seem to ever take control of his life, and he never grows up. He has a family in the carnival troupe that he knows will never abandon him, but he leaves them whenever they pack up to move all the same. He knows true love will never happen with his choices of women, but he doesn't know how to love anyone else, and certain rejection is all he's ever had anyway.

    But Lo-lo isn't tragic, he's just a little more lost than people give him credit for. He's old enough to know better, but in his heart of hearts he will always be the little boy that became an alley pup.

    Liar #3 She Sets Fire To The Silence
    Basics
    Name: Tammy Coldridge
    Age: 29
    Gender: Female
    Occupation: Contract Pyro
    Vices: Short fuse. Selectively repressed.
    Quirks: Always plugged into music. Always moving to music. Deaf.
    Physical Attributes: 5'10". Skinny and lanky with an androgynous torso. Think heroin chic.
    Abilities: Can trigger an adrenaline response almost at will with the right music or with fire.
    Weaknesses: More fragile than she gives her body credit for. Her pain tolerance is almost too high.
    The Silence Tammy is the kind of person that you'd never notice because most of her is hiding under a thick hoodie and cargo pants. Her hands are usually sitting in a kangaroo pouch with her music player of choice, and she prefers extra-high top Converse shoes that crown above the ankles. When she does pull down the hood, she's got dirty blonde hair pulled back into a frizzy ponytail and large hazel eyes that always look like they're staring into space, even if it means looking right through you.

    Tammy wears bilateral cochlear implants that have been heavily customized. Most of her money is spent on those babies, as well as her music players--equally customized. Despite being able to hear clearly--in some cases better than the average person--she prefers to remain deaf to the world and is usually listening to music instead. She rarely turns the music off and the microphone on, even when meeting with employers. Nevertheless, she's a brilliantly skilled lip reader and acutely aware of her surroundings, including vibrations in the air, the ground, or anything she's in contact with.

    Communication with Tammy isn't as hard as you'd think. She never really took to sign language, but if there's pen and paper handy she can write whatever she needs to say. To Tammy, though, verbal language has a tendency to lie while written language is easy to manipulate. Body language is where her comfort zone lies, if she's comfortable enough to care.
    The Noise Tammy was born deaf to a coke addict that made the bad decision of banging her dealer. Her mother never realized that she was deaf, and abused her for being a retard, but Tammy was always good at taking the shopping list to the grocery store. One day the store was being held at gunpoint, and while there were no casualties, the lady owner realized there was something wrong when the little girl went about her business through gunshots.

    The foster home was where Tammy discovered dance. The older kids had a boombox and the vibrations helped her to understand the erratic movements they made. The foster parent saw an opportunity and paid for her dance lessons. It wasn't long before Tammy became a local legend as the deaf girl who could win ballroom tournaments. The money made off her celebrity was used partially to buy her hearing aids so she could be interviewed to make even more money. Then she heard music instead of just feeling it, and suddenly the world of her emotions became a storm.

    Twenty-four hour apathy became intermittent tantrums, and somehow the home was set on fire. Tammy fell in love, then watched the flames die when the firefighters came. Heartbroken, she ran away and never went back.
    The Music Tammy is now a hired arsonist. She will steal, she will terrorize, and she will kill. She has little to no appreciation for people, and even less appreciation for their material possessions. Her career is being an adrenaline junkie and her passion is to dance, whenever and wherever she can, especially if it has the added bonus of learning how others dance.

    The only problem is that Tammy is all alone in the world, and her appreciation for all kinds of music makes it difficult not to dream.

    Oh well. At least she can set fire to the silence.

    Liar #4 The Wish Doctor
    Basics
    Name: Mina Kwong
    Age: Perpetually 32
    Gender: Female
    Occupation: Traditional Herbal Doctor
    Vices: Meat. Berry wine. Korean plum juice.
    Quirks: Some feline tendencies. Quiet.
    Physical Attributes: 6'3". Incredibly light. Maybe 9 lbs. Looks sleepy.
    Abilities: Shapeshifting. Nigh invincible claws--when drawn. Resurrection.
    Weaknesses: Lemon juice. Tendency to copycat the physical attributes of others.
    The Disguise Mina is tall, thin, and pale within reasonable standards. Her face is mildly long, but sharp, framed by oiled black hair that hangs down to the middle of her back. Her eyes are brown, dark almost to the point of being black. In the dark--especially in her dimly lit clinic--she looks eerily dead.

    She's a doctor with surgical experience and a long-learned knowledge of traditional medicine based in Korean origins, as well as long-forgotten magical herbalism. She runs a sort of shabby looking clinic out of her home. The entire first floor is dedicated to her work, the basement is a greenhouse, and the floors above are her living space as well as guest rooms for long-term patients.

    Mina has legitimate customers, including a few very rich and superstitious retainer clients, but her main business is the care of supernaturals who need to seek treatment outside the boundaries and public space of modern medicine. She takes payment in all sorts of ways, and often she also does pro-bono work that extends beyond the realm of her profession.
    The Cat There was once a fox woman who wanted so desperately to become human, that she went to a dragon to beg for his help. The dragon gave her a drop of condensation from his yeouiju, which solidified into one itself. She wore this pearl day in and day out, standing under the full moon's light every month for almost a century. On the very last night, a jealous lover shot her into a tree and carved off one of her tails. The yeouiju fell, and the fox's pet cat came to lick at her feet, only to find itself fascinated by the pearl. The cat took it in its mouth, and of some strange compulsion, swallowed it.

    That night, a feline Kumiho was born. Her fur turned shades of the moon, her ears grew bigger, and her tail split into nine. The yeouiju became a spirit pearl, fastened hovering in the clam of her tails--until the day another demon came and tore it from her soul, killing her in the process. At the strike of midnight she breathed again, but one of her tails had rotten off.
    The Kumiho The cat has had many names and many faces over the ages, but the two forms true to her nature she guards with much ferocity. It's fairly safe to assume that one would be hard-pressed to find sure evidence of either of her true forms without killing her first. That said, she can only be female and the only anthropomorphic traits she can develop are feline, but colors, size, and certain elements of form are easily adjustable.

    There are few things Mina really wants in life, and they dictate the way she lives. The first and most important is that she misses her pearl which left such pain and emptiness that she's never been the same since. Granting the wishes of others is a way for her to cope with the fact that she's lost the one thing that granted her a wish she didn't even know she'd had. Perhaps one day, if she helps enough people, the pearl will return of its own accord.

    Despite the things she's achieved and the humanity she's lived up to, Mina is still a domesticated cat and in her fervor to be human she's long been without the small pleasures of being such--granted, her original domestication was by a fellow creature during a time when domestication of wild cats was very rare, so her idea of being a pet is very different from the modern house cat. She demands respect as well as empathy, but she's independent and at times selfish.

    ( Adaptable to any genre or time period. )

    1 2 3 4



    And Behind Door Number..!


    Quote any one of the following posts into a PM along with your response!
    Lividly Pre-typed #2 Sincerely, Stranger
    Dear Random,

    How are you today? What day is it?

    It's a misty autumn day for me, and it makes me want to color my body. There are beech trees that reach all the way across the yard and the grass looks like it's burning when the wind picks up. I already have brown eyes and sunset hair, so if I could paint my skin in fire I might leap out the window to assimilate myself with the Fall. I think that would be the best way to wear Mother Nature.

    Are you confused?

    It's okay, I don't know who you are either. Frankly speaking--or writing, if you prefer--you're the twenty-seventh person I've written to. See, I have this obsession with maps and locations in the world. I rarely ever get to leave the house, so I thought to myself: Why not let my words leave instead? It's like when you read a book. They say that literature is a gateway to the world that you can't see in person, so why can't it be the other way around? I decided to make the world a portal for my written identity.

    Now how did I find you.

    I threw some darts at a globe (you'd be surprised how hard it is to get one to stick) until I had a general location. Then I straightened the outer end of a paper clip and dropped it on an atlas. Then I found some maps that went smaller and smaller until they couldn't anymore and I asked my friend for her phone so I could find an address to write to.

    Will you write back?

    Sincerely,
    Stranger​
    Lividly Pre-typed #1 The Poet That Never Was
    She was a Cosmopolitan dream:
    -----dark lips / dark eyes / dark hips / dark lies
    -----red hair / red nails / red voice / red tail
    -----purple shadow / purple blush / purple
    -----clothes with a cowl of baby blue hush
    -----so she was
    too modern for the bar and too old for the stage, with skin painted in Pleasantville foundation and paper crumpled out of an old college notebook that she held wrapped around her fingers because she didn't need to look at it anyway. It said:

    You're not in love with me
    -----not with this slide of information
    -----put under a microscope bent to decode the original formation
    You're not fascinated by this contradiction
    -----assumed from the color decoordination
    -----between the lines of his face and the curve of his lips
    You're not having this conversation
    -----there's no telling him what poisons you've been slipped
    -----he isn't telling you how to fix the sheets in your bed
    You're not looking at him
    because I'm just a photo
    rolling across the back of
    your brain in eighteen or
    so years worth of slowmo
    stop-motion of the straw-
    fed mud-baked Spring boy
    from the back of the shed.

    The hand on the mic. The hand off the mic. The other hand on the mic. The other hand off. Both hands on. And she almost licked her lips, almost broke the image she'd spent three hours to make three hours before the recital. But no one was here for her ("Hi, my name is Shelley Mae.") because it was Open Mic Night ("I've never done this before.") and everyone was more engaged with the denim lining coming off their tables ("Weird interior, huh? I mean, it's quaint. Artsy. I like it."). How was she supposed to start? ("How do I start?") She cleared the nerves from her throat and began with "You're not..."

    ..... ..... .....

    "I'm sorry."

    Even before she left the stage, the next rookie had been prepped and readied. There were a lot of them that night, and after several she'd been the first to leave without finishing. She wasn't prepared to be a coward, though, and decided to be a drunk one instead, so she went straight to the ass end of the bar--empty, because the patrons were trying to sit closer to the stage--and called for an open tab to finance as many dry vodka martinis as she needed (with extra olives and a side of cheese, both in every color they had).

    With the first martini she snatched it like a mouse trap and the alcohol flipped over the brim of the glass, invading the paper still gloved around her hand. Translucent gray splotches spread like mold fast-forwarded >>>> then tore through the middle with the protrusion of her knuckles, screaming for a second chance at the spotlight. All it would have was exasperation clouded by a sigh, the paper lifted from the woman's possession and fleetingly floatingly tossed to the side.

    "Good-bye stardom, hello you-told-me-so Professor Don't-write-autobiography."
     
    #1 Livid Lies, Nov 18, 2015
    Last edited: Dec 18, 2015
  2. Ad has been updated with new story ideas, a third character, and a second pre-type since the making of this thread.
     
  3. I only just realized that the forum has several skins with four different base background shades, and as much as it pains me to remove the font color highlights, I've adjusted a compromise to maintain readability across all themes.

    Sorry for the nuisance of color.
     
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