(D’awwwwWWW thank you! Right back atcha.)
(I stumbled across this blog in the ‘Ink Spots’ tag, and I’m SO HAPPY ABOUT IT. Whoever runs it is doing a magnificent job of cataloging the various songs featured in the BioShock games. They’ve also added informative blurbs about the respective histories of each song and artist. And the THEME, jfc It’s awesome. Seriously, check it out.)
What am I even doing?
The world may never know.
how long have you role played for: Online? On and off for 9 years.
your first rp genre: PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN FOR THE WIN. Though I’d hardly count is as my first legit genre, as it was just me and my friend screwing around as fangirling 13 year olds. On the other hand, my first online community was one revolving around DC Universe.
first character’s name: Harleen Quinzel/Harley Quinn
first character’s face claim: Brittany Murphy
first character’s species: Human
last character’s name: I’m assuming this means my most recent character? In that case, Felix Molloy.
last character’s face claim: Henry Cavill because DAT JAW.
last character’s species: Also human.
current character’s name: I’ve got quite a few. Silas here’s one, then we have Hector Rodriguez, Daniel Wales, Robert Lutece, and an OC Rodney Bishop. I play a few more characters off of tumblr as well, mostly in the same fandom.
current character’s faceclaim: In their listed order, Ryan Gosling (younger preferred), Ian Somerhalder, David Tennant, Armie Hammer, and Cillian Murphy.
current character’s species: All humans. I’m not good at playing fantasy characters.
how did you get into rp: Honestly, it was so long ago that I don’t clearly remember it. Again, I started with a friend who also had no idea what she was doing. We just liked to banter and plot these ridiculous situations, and it developed from there. We did everything over AIM, too.
have you roleplayed with someone you know irl: Many, many times.
what is your favourite genre of rp: I’m kinda confused on the “definition” of genre in this case. As far as fandoms go, BioShock is my #1. I kinda fell off the DC Universe bandwagon, but I still know enough about it to do it again if I ever wanted to. I’ve also dabbled in Welcome to Night Vale, and I’m considering branching out into the Left 4 Dead RP community. But, if we’re talking about types of RPs I like to do, then the answer is torture/angst. Sadly, I don’t do a whole lot of it here. Not in depth, anyway.
what is your least favourite genre of rp: Again, it depends on what we’re talking about. While I don’t flat out hate any fandom, there are a lot out there I know little to nothing about, so I’d be uncomfortable or disinterested RPing in them. When it comes to types of interactions, I get bored of aimless banter really easily. I also (usually) don’t like smut for the sake of smut, nor do I like fluff that goes over the top. As much as I love RPing relationships, I don’t like it when it gets gushy to the point of being unbelievable.
if you could change one thing about the rp community, what would it be: I wish it was easier for people to not take things personally, which I know is asking a lot. Writers get really attached to their characters (myself included), and IC drama can so quickly turn into OOC drama. I really wish it was easier to communicate with other mods sometimes. I feel like a lot of petty and stressful confrontation could be solved (or even avoided completely) if people were just more willing to talk things out. That’s it, really. I want people to be able to talk freely and enjoy themselves. I myself can think of a couple of mods who I’d really appreciate sitting down and have an honest conversation with.
how long has a plot lasted for you: Some have gone on for half a year. It’s less about the plot, actually, and way more about me being too lazy to reply ever.
are you open for plotting: Almost always.
what fc are you craving to play as of late: I usually pick the character before the faceclaim, so nothing really comes to mind.
"Some shine like galaxies! And some…
like a moth at the flame.”
U R N
"Ryan sent a clear message when he had Frank Fontaine put down—’it’s time you all learned your place.’ I’ll tell you what, Ryan…”
MESSAGE RECEIVED✘ An Atlas vs. Ryan Fanmix || [by anonomous request]
✘ T R A C K L I S T
1. Why’d You Bring A Shotgun To The Party—The Pretty Reckless || 2. Worker’s Song—Dropkick Murphys || 3. Know Your Enemy—Green Day || 4. You’re Going Down—Sick Puppies || 5. Supremacy—Muse || 6. King Caesar—Head Automatica || 7. The Hand That Feeds—Nine Inch Nails || 8. Conspiracy—Dr. Steel || 9. Coward—Biffy Clyro || 10. Mass Rapture—Diablo Swing Orchestra || 11. Praying For A Riot—30 Seconds To Mars || 12. Passive—A Perfect Circle || 13. New Years End—God Is An Astronaut
(I have a far away gig that is sucking up my entire afternoon & evening. Though I’m pretty much caught up here on Silas ((aside from 2 replies and a drabble)), I owe so many people on my other accounts. If you’re not sure what accounts those are, check here. I’m really set on getting a bunch of replies/starters done tomorrow, and maybe some late tonight when I get home. Either way, thank you guys for your patience. I really, really appreciate it <3)
'Go get yerself home.'
The words repeated over and over again in his head. What home did he have to go back to? The office? There was nothing homely about the place. He didn’t sleep there unless he truly had no option but to - which would probably be what he’d have to do later that night. He’d already been banned from every motel and hotel in the sunken city. Booker never liked entering his office, or leaving it. Andrew Ryan’s eyes glared down at him, followed him as he staggered in and out of the office. Who’s Goddamn idea was it to stick the statue there? For the time being, Booker remained drunk. He liked being in the higher place, he liked being the scum of Rapture. People knew he was less than a man, that he didn’t deserve to live in the Utopia that was the underwater city. They were right, he didn’t.
The hard shove against his shoulder was what almost knocked him to the ground. It took him a while to get back onto his feet and when he did, he grabbed for the man’s shoulders. If he hadn’t been off his rocker, he would have seemed intimidating to the younger man. Instead, he found it difficult to hold onto him, which caused him to soon let go. He stumbled backwards but regained his step, standing tall and glancing around the rather bright room. Everything was so bright in Rapture. He knew his slur of words would not help his case, that the man would look down at him with disgust. He didn’t know shit, he didn’t know why Booker spent every day and every night drowning himself in whiskey.
She was the reason he despised himself, the reason he could barely look at himself anymore. He’d gambled and he’d lost her. If he’d only just kept an eye on her, if he’d only just kept her by his side. Maybe then she wouldn’t have gone missing, maybe then she wouldn’t have turned up dead. People stared at him with both pity and hatred. Hatred because he’d been the one to torture Suchong for fifteen hours straight.
❝ Just here to listen to some music. Maybe buy a record. ❞
He leaned in closer, the stench of alcohol now entirely obvious if it hadn’t been before.
❝ No harm done, see? ❞ He raised his hands, a sly smirk on his lips.
As the sudden grab was made at him, Silas immediately snapped to ignite his handy Incinerate! plasmid. A small flame sparked in warning towards the drunkard as the disciple forced forward his arm, his brow narrowed fiercely despite the flustered pink that’d inadvertently touched his narrow cheeks.
"You get yer hands off—”
As it was, the threat didn’t need to be finished. The man let go on his own accord, stumbling backwards towards the the front windows. Cobb was helpless in his reflex to seize the other by his arm, if only to save the record display and not the imbecile posing hazard to it. Again, his efforts proved unnecessary as the man somehow caught his own balance. He managed to straighten up, too, revealing to Silas the extent of his lumbering size. Inherent inebriation aside, he made for an intimidating sight. Adding the booze only turned him into a clumsier menace to himself and his surroundings. Anyone sensible would’ve distanced themselves right away, yet Silas remained stubbornly in place.
"Uh huh," he replied skeptically, his arms coming to cross over his chest, "Maybe buy a record.”
Cobb did flinch back as the man stepped forward, the flush in his face deepening in new, baseless embarrassment. Why was he so ruffled, anyway? Drunkards got on his nerves right quick—Hector was the perfect example—but he wasn’t all that angry. Irritated, sure, but there was more. Something palpable. Pity? Disgust?
The disciple suddenly got his answer as the man simpered at him. All at once, that subtle smirk made more than just his face burn.
Silas scowled despite a sped pulse, his nose wrinkled in abhorrence at the stale stench of whiskey that suddenly surrounded him. In turn, the disciple placed a flat palm to the man’s chest to nudge him back. However, another twinge of something electric shot through him as he felt for himself the sheer density of the other’s torso through his shirt. It made the southerner’s gut flutter, albeit unpleasantly. One head also voiced a pressing desire to see underneath before the other head had chance to deny the fantasy.
"You, uh…you better watch it, then. You break it, you bought it, ya hear me?"
Powerless to do much else, the confounded disciple strengthened his glare and pointed an accusatory finger in the other’s direction. Since the guy wasn’t backing off, Cobb took the liberty of walking away first, despite an inexplicable and nagging urge not to.
"An’ don’t make me call security,” he added sternly, calling over his shoulder as he made for the register.