#Experienced rp

[gbnenji]

Looking For South Park Roleplayers!!

am a male minor but I am above the age of 15.

I'd only like to roleplay with people 15+, I just find it a bit off putting for anyone under that age.

I am specifically looking for someone who's into South Park and knows the lore(or at least a lot of it). I do romance mixed with angst. My ships include Style(Stan and Kyle), Bunny(Butters and Kenny), Kenjorine(Kenny and Marjorine), and Creek(Craig and Tweek). They are obviously aged up, at least 17-19!!! For those who don't just want a simple romance roleplay, I have plenty of AUs or scenarios we could discuss on or try out. I would like to add that I only do canon character(CC x CC), but if you truly want to use your OC, then we can discuss. If you like the idea, we can discuss more.

I'm looking for someone who can be literate and roleplay with more than maybe 8-10 lines? By paragraph, I'd go by at least 2 paragraphs, the minimum of each having 4-5 sentences. As I am experienced myself, it would be good if you were aswell. I don't need you to know every single detail of roleplaying, just that you know how to start, keep the plot going, etc. My last requirement would be to reply quick? To explain, please don't reply one day then disappear for the next week. If you are uninterested after we begin, please unfriend or block me. If you are having personal things going on, please let me know before hand(you don't have to go into full detail, just let me know that you won't be able to reply).

School will be a problem for me to reply quickly in about 2 months after me posting this. I also live in California, so I am in PST(so you know when my latest hours are and your expectations aren't high when you realize it's maybe 4am where I am). Lastly, I really want this to be a long term roleplay.

You can reach out to me here:

Discord: nxk_xx

Instagram: nxkk_x

[words-writ-in-starlight]

listen I expected literally Nothing from the D&D movie okay, like I can't make it clear enough that I expected the most soulless money grab with a good cgi budget imaginable, I went in having already gone through every stage of grief and landed on acceptance and LISTEN

I fucking CRIED during this dumb RPG movie. it wasn't just "not terrible" it was objectively good with a clever plot and compelling characters and sincere emotional beats. this movie loves D&D so fucking much and it NAILS the "a bunch of goobers try to be cool and accidentally discover The Power Of Friendship And Also Great Violence" classic D&D party vibe. their barbarian's last name is fucking Kilgore and my entire family cried in the theater.

I hope they make twelve of these motherfuckers.

[nashvillethotchicken]

It's crazy how people talk about loumand like they hate each other and have never once looked at each other with anything resembling lust, like two nuns at a silent covent. Buddy louis has had bed death with his husband, and that husband wasn't armand lemme tell you that!

[qtubbo]

honestly I should just make a post about the effects of perma egg death from my experience with Pip at this point, I have very strong opinions on how this was handled on qsmp.

[new-neanias]

when I moved to vermont I expected it to not still be 80° at the end of october. when does it get cold?

[missazura]

me when i fucking GET YOU

[sentient-kryptonite]

Hey, sunshine. How are you?

@anonymous-bastard

I'm alright! I did accidentally make a bit of kryptonine emerge from the ground because I did not know I could do that.

BUT IT WAS REALLY COOL!

[crownedinmarigolds]

If Noa could break out into a cold sweat, she would have, looking over the blank template Nythanel had provided to her. They were each others' soulmates, the greatest of friends, but they weren't each others' lovers. That role would have to be filled by someone else, but who? Noa didn't think her standards were so ridiculously unachievable... but considering her extremely lacking record, perhaps they were. Her pen scribbled on the card stock as she thought about her answers. Nyth was going to distribute it amongst the local populace - a meme? A bingo game? - and they would see which fish would take the bite. If no one bit, that would be fine. It's not such a large collection of Kindred in the area, but it was fun to cast the line... she guessed. ~

Hee hee feel free to kind of RP your responses if you wanted to join me! This is all in good fun! Using the template remade by pocketmemes, but original template is by d3vilbabi3 on Twitter! (Warning, VERY NSFW Twitter)

[reha-bill-itated]

Humans are so fragile and weak, it's ridiculous. You try to mess around with them and suddenly it's all "you tortured and abused me and drove me insane"... yeesh. Dramatic much?

[betonbennett]

Well, that was...certainly an experience.

We, uh– We are all finished now.

...I think I need a drink.

[marlsboro-mckn]

uhng… women in suits save me… save me women in suits…

[moonlight-seraph]

Hey @ whatever pokégod governs dreams where the fuck are mine. I've been having dreams since I fell up to like three days ago, people don't just STOP dreaming, so where the fuck are they, huh??? Put them back.

[personalzombie-tv]

There's so many things i wanna say re: informed consent and aftercare in regards to ttrpgs and other roleplay situations but i can not get the ideas in the right order. Gonna give it my best shot though.

A lot of people who suck have been yelling on tiktok about consent surveys and checkins becoming more popular with mainstream DnD. And like- it's just like in bdsm really. You gotta know what you're getting into, provide continuous consent to it, and have a way out if it gets to be too much. The only real difference between sexily pretending to be someone's maid or whatever and pretending to be an orc in a massive collaborative storytelling session is the content of the pretending and how likely anyone involved is gonna get their rocks off to it. It's still the same kind of effect on the brain and you're gonna be processing emotions that come from that. It's super important to know exactly what to expect and be able to set hard (and soft) boundaries about what you are and are not ok with experiencing there.

There's a reason safewords are considered so important in a lot of bdsm circles even when the scene isn't a situation where a plain "no" might go ignored. It's an immediate stop and return to the real world outside of the play. Having that in non-sexy rp is an amazing tool. It lets the gm or other players know "hey this needs to stop now" without having to say those words or worry about whether it's a full stop or a pause. It pulls everyone out immediately and gets them on the same level. I think anyone who's unexpectedly encountered more than they could handle in a game can appreciate the ability to do that.

The thing I haven't seen talked about as much as that though is the concept of aftercare. Like, especially in high rp settings where emotions are running high you gotta be able to take the time afterward to calm down. You need to be able to talk to your friends and remember you're playing a game, they still care about you even if your character and theirs just tried to murder each other. Maybe it doesn't get talked about much cause there's no real word for it that doesn't have the sex connotation but we really should be. I've seen first hand how dropping after intense rp can hurt someone and leave them not wanting to continue playing. You gotta make room to take care of your friends. Especially in online gaming where you can't exactly just hand them a slice of pizza and tell them how well they did acting and how much you love them.

I don't know how to end this. I've just been thinking a lot about these things. I'm glad consent forms and check ins are becoming more normalized in the gaming space. Good for everyone that that's happening even if the old guard dudebros are pissed off about it

[pinkhairandpokemon]

———

[Attached: A lengthy video, maybe about ten minutes or so long. Blake and N can be seen walking together side by side, following a narrow dirt trail leading through a small wooded area. Both seem a bit nervous, yet they still have soft smiles on their slightly red faces as they chat.

Eventually, the path leads out into and ends in an open field, aglow with a golden tint from the sun setting over the horizon. There’s a bit of a steep dip, so N reaches out and gently grasps Blake’s hand, carefully leading them down it until they reach the flatter part of the clearing.

Letting go of his companion’s hand, N takes a seat in the grass, patting the space beside him in an invitation to sit. Blake accepts and plops down, shuffling around somewhat anxiously before getting comfortable.

The camera- likely Blake’s Rotom phone- floats a bit closer, finally picking up on their conversation.

“Yeah, uh…” Blake awkwardly rubs the back of their head. “A part of me was… hoping you’d understand what the Applin meant, but another part of me… kinda hoped you wouldn’t…”

“Well…” N absentmindedly pushes a loose strand of his green hair back with his finger. “May I ask what you were going to do if I did catch on?”

“Eheh, I… I dunno…” Blake admitted with a chuckle. “Th-thought maybe if you realized, I’d… suddenly gain the courage to tell you… but I uh, I should’ve known it wouldn’t work that way.”

N gives them a soft half-smile, averting his gaze as he inches his hand closer to theirs. Blake’s breath silently hitches when their fingers briefly graze against one another, but they don’t retreat from the touch. Rather, they welcome it, wrapping their pinky around his.

They stare down at where they’re connected for a moment, before they tilt their head up, searching N’s stormy silver eyes. “What… would you have done if you’d known right off the bat?”

“W-Well, I…” he clears his throat, nervously glancing between the other trainer and the ground. “I definitely… wouldn’t have been upset, that’s for sure. I… probably would’ve been quite happy, actually.”

Something on Blake’s expression noticeably lights up at that. Biting at their lip, they turn their eyes to the sunset as they seem to think on something for a moment. “Are you… h-happy that you, um… know now?”

The silence that follows feels like an eternity, when in truth it was only a few seconds. N’s smile fades for a moment, and you catch a flash of worry across Blake’s face- but it quickly subsides into mild surprise when he finally fully slips his hand into theirs.

“Yes,” he replies earnestly, turning to face them. “Very.”

He grasps their hand with both of his, gingerly holding it close to his heart. “Because I… I feel the same. I have for a very, very long time.”

You can practically see Blake’s heart swell with emotions behind their eyes, as they take in a deep inhale at his words. After giving them a moment to process it, N slowly pulls them into a hug, firmly wrapping his arms around their waist. It isn’t long before Blake melts into it and returns it, their own arms winding around his shoulders.

The two rest in the embrace for a moment, before Blake’s voice cuts through the silence. “How long have you…”

N answers their question right after they trail off, already knowing what they were going to ask. “Well, I… I think it started maybe in Chargestone Cave. Or perhaps earlier, like at the Ferris Wheel. But I… I never fully realized what it was until after I left. I was just… missing you so much, and regretting everything I did, and…”

“…Zekrom suggested what I might’ve been feeling, and it finally clicked,” he sighed, his hand falling down their back a little. “At first I… didn’t think I was capable of having feelings like that. But when I thought about how much you meant to me, it… it made sense. And then I tried to repress it, because I thought you deserved so much better and never wanted to see me again anyways…”

“Uh, I hope you know by now that it was the complete opposite,” Blake cuts in, trying to lighten the mood. “These last two years I spent forever wondering where you were! Wondering if you were okay…”

N chuckles softly and shakes his head, pulling back a bit to gaze at them, admiring the evening glow on their face. “And I’m sorry for worrying you. But I worried over you, too. So much so that when I heard you’d disappeared to find Plasma, I… I knew I had to drop everything in order to go look for you. To make sure you were safe...”

“I… I wanted to tell you how I felt after everything settled down. I was tired of waiting,” he confessed, eyes trailing to their shoulder. “But at the same time I’d just gotten you back after so long, and…”

“-You were scared of pushing me away again…” Blake finishes for him, catching him by surprise. “Yeah. That’s how I felt about it, too. I just… didn’t want to take the chance of ruining anything. Especially when we’d finally gotten a chance to rest.”

“Yeah…” N breathes out, seeming a bit relieved that he at least hadn’t been alone in his anxieties. “I… suppose all that pointless worrying only lead to several weeks of us hopelessly dancing around each other, huh?”

“Yeah…” Blake sighed, giving a halfhearted shrug. “I’m… really sorry.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” N assured them, comfortingly squeezing them closer. “I… I mean, I was doing the exact same thing, so…”

The two both fall quiet yet again, soaking in the silence for a moment while avoiding each other’s eyes. Eventually, though, Blake was the first to speak up when they noticed a pensiveness appear on their friend’s expression. “Hey…” they said, voice barely above a whisper as they placed a hand on his shoulder. “What are you thinking about? You’ve got that look on your face.”

“Huh?” N snaps out of his thoughts, blinking a few times in confusion. “What look?”

“That look you get when you’re thinking really hard about something,” Blake giggles, before making a feigned grumpy face and taking on a deep voice to provide an example. “Like this.”

N simply perks a brow at their impression of him, but can’t hide the amused grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “I look and sound nothing like that…”

“Sure you do!” Blake laughs, playfully bumping his shoulder with their fist. “All the time.” Then, there’s a mischievous glint in their eye as they look away and smirk coyly about something. “But it’s okay, cause it looks way hotter when you do it.”

N practically chokes at that, quickly bringing a hand up to cover his increasingly beet-red face while Blake bursts into another giggling fit. Once they both calm down a little, N sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re unbelievable…”

“Fine, fine, you want to know what I was thinking?” he grumbles, though there’s a lighthearted tone to it. “I… well…”

Blake tilts their head a little, listening closely as N tries to find the right words to say.

“I’m… I am tired of waiting,” he finally admits, eyes full of sincerity as they lock with Blake’s. “Of trying to hide how I feel around you. A-and now that pretty much everything is out in the open, I…”

He sucks in a deep breath, steeling himself. “Blake, however you respond to what I’m about to say, just know that I’ll respect your feelings no matter what-” he clarifies. “But I don’t… I don’t want to hold any of this in anymore. I care about you- a huge, irrevocably amount. You’ve changed my life in ways I could’ve never imagined, in ways I could never possibly thank you enough for. You saved my life- multiple times, I’ve learned so much about the world from you, and I think it goes without saying that I wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for what you did for me.”

“And… if you’d let me, I’d like to stay beside you,” he cups their hands again, squeezing them ever so gently, just enough to convey the raw feeling in his heart. “I feel balanced and whole around you. Your presence alone, it reminds me of all there is to love in the world. Despite everything I’ve done, everything you’ve been through, you still continue to be there for me and fill my life with light...”

“S-so if you’ll have me…” His voice shakes a little, but he quickly steadies himself. “I’d love nothing more than to try and be something like that for you. I want to be someone you can count on, someone you look to for hope. Someone you can come to in the darkest hours, s-someone you share your brightest moments with…”

“Blake…” he took a deep breath as his speech came to a close. “You mean so, so much to me. I want to be there for you- for as long as you’ll allow me to be. Even if that ends up being our whole lives… nothing in the world would make me happier.”

Those words hang in the air for so long, you almost think the video’s frozen. But before long, the sweetest of smiles rise to Blake’s face. A gloved hand lifts up to cup N’s cheek, and they lean forward just enough for their foreheads to touch.

“Can I tell you what I’m thinking…?” They murmur shyly. Their eyes flick down to his lips for the briefest of seconds, and it doesn’t take a second for N to understand. His expression softens, and his arms find their way back around their waist as he leans in…

And then…]

———

[bluestsdays]

hiiiiiiii..... is this thing on........... i'm trying to harness the will to write again so if i can look through some of ur open starters and maybe reply to one ... please like this <3

[the-archpriest-and-the-outcast]

Until They Are Forgotten

He never quite knows where he will wind up wandering when he casts himself out into the Warp. Instead of merely listening to the melody, he allows himself to become one with it. To feel the thrum beat within the fiber of his being. To hear the choirs of endless voices cry and scream, blending into song.

This time, an odd note of melancholy is what drives him onward and in. Something has been gently needling at his conscious mind, and so he has gone out to investigate what it may be. Such journeys could take minutes, hours, days, years, or longer. He never knows and has not cared.

Following the note, sustained and faint like one held too long upon a violin, he finds himself reaching his destination. Within the realm of thoughts and dreams, he feels dust and ash coating his feet. He tastes the dry, acrid air. Smells the smoke, thick and billowing, filling his chest.

But what he sees is not the desolation he feels. No, he sees thousands of souls, all gathered, weeping, pleading, roaring...

An endless tide of them. As far as he could possibly perceive. Thousands. Millions.

He recognizes them. He knows them. He remembers weeping for them. The pain in his chest that refused to leave him for weeks. The same pain that twisted and coiled and almost turned to indifference. He feels the ash between his fingers. Feels the grip of cloth, the struggles of a feeble man, speaking what he thought to be heresy, and what he now understood as a form of the Truth.

He looks at the sea of souls. He listens. He hears their melodious suffering, how it blends with the background hum of the universe itself. He reaches out to them all with hands made of radiant gold, and feels as they reach back. He feels the small hands of children, grasping at his long fingers; the rough, firm hands of honest workers; the delicate hands of artisans and writers; the grasp of those feeble in body, yet strong in mind and will; how some grip his hand as though desperate for something to cling to, and others as though they are greeting an old friend.

He sees them. Sees their eyes, their minds, their hearts. Sees them as they once were, and now are. Sees the fear. Desperation. Conviction. Anger. Grief. Friends, families, lovers, all still together despite how time-ravaged they all are. Some barely remember what they were. Others remember well.

He listens. Hears the tales parents once told children. The jokes once passed between friends. The arguments once held between lovers. The jabs between rivals and enemies. The mundane hum of existence, maintained in this one space.

This space could be anywhere, he knows. This place could be a chasm, a palace, a city square, a forest, a field. It matters not. All that matters is that all of them are here.

His eyes close. He tightens his grip on their hands. He allows himself to remember the bone-deep ache that pursued him from this moment onward. He allows himself to remember the anger that burned in him so brightly before it smoldered. He allows himself to remember the act that set him down this path. A quiver of the lip. The feeling of dry ash coating and covering beautiful golden skin, revealed by thin tracks that glistened in the low candlelight. Skin that earned him his name.

Aurelian.

He hears it now, being whispered through the gathered souls. He hears all his titles, murmured with reverence or spat with hatred.

He feels their grips all tighten with his own. Something builds within all of them. It is an overwhelming tide of emotion. It is sorrow. It is grief. It is pain. It is fear.

And strangest of all, it is understanding. His time here is impermanent, as is theirs. Soon he will leave, and they will dissipate. They will become one with the endless song, and he will find a note to untangle anew.

Some are scared. Some are too weary to feel fear, and simply wish to move on once more.

His eyes open. The gathering before him flickers between packs of formless and nameless daemons, and the forms of the humans they once embodied. He sees their souls. He sees who they once were. Sees their hunger. Their pain. None see the Neverborn quite as he does. None take the time to have these moments with them, for them to remember who they were, and for them to remind the pilgrim that he, too, was human once.

Slowly, he uncurls his hands from the crowd. The scent of ash, the feeling of smoke, the view of the gathering all begins to fade. Back into the melody they vanish. He remembers the eyes that stare at him mere moments before they are swept along. Remembers the feel of the smaller hands that tried to hold on for just a few moments longer. The whispers and pleas to just remember them.

And, as swiftly as he found this place, he leaves. A single tear trails from him, falling, forming itself into a wisp that fades after a few fickle moments of existence.

He returns to his confines upon a world of madness and horror. Within a chamber, with walls covered in a language never meant to be uttered by physical beings, he sits. He folds his legs. Feels the cloth against his gilded, tattooed skin. Reaches for a stylus and ink with only one pair of hands. And for the briefest of moments, he sees eyes that he had not stared into in millennia reflected back in that dark pool of ink.

With a shuddering breath, he reaches for paper, and begins to write. Allows his emotions, his thoughts, his memories to flow onto the pages. He sits like this for hours. For days. For weeks. He writes names. Writes what he felt. Writes what he saw. He writes and writes and writes.

When his hands finally still, pages fill the room. He feels the tenseness and soreness that should not be there. He feels all the physical limitations he swore he had shed long ago. As he stands, it all falls away. The facade of anything human flees, leaving behind a strange little god-thing. A perfect representation of Chaos Undivided, wrapped in the gold of its most powerful enemy.

But deep within its chest, there is the dullest of aches. A promise. A reminder. Remember why you are here. Why you quest so hard for the Truth. Why you stare into the abyss and have become one with it. Remember the blood, the tears, the suffering that formed each step to this pathway. Remember the sorrow. The stares.

The pages are organized and compiled with naught but an idle thought into loose bound tomes and journals to be studied later. He feels the tug again. There is a note out of alignment, and it demands his attention.

He wonders where the song will take him this time.