#labyrinth roleplay

[nerdynanny]

labyrinth rp fandom where you at i got jareth and toby and im DANGLING THEM come to me BINGLE BANGLE DINGLE DONGLE i just said your favorite word, LABYRINTH.

previously wrote toby on iamnotjareth so if ANY OF YOU OLD GOOBERS are still around COME HOUND ME.

[lilithwolferp]

I'm in dire need of roleplaying partners. I have an OC, she in my pinned post. I would appreciate it if you could write at least 3 sentences to a paragraph. I don't expect novels, but a story can't build with little to no description and dialog. AUs and Canon are welcomed. I do like dark, taboo, and fluff. You must be 21 and older. Because I do smut and I'm 30. And I have a lot of ideas. And I'm in a lot of fandoms. So without further ado. I'll list the fandoms and then the characters I'm looking for to play against my OC. I'm willing to do doubles.

Marvel: Loki, Bucky Barnes, Captain America, Black Widow, Thor.

Supernatural: Dean, John, Sam, Arthur Ketch

Law and Order: SVU: Stabler, Carisi, Barba, Olivia

Chicago Fire: Severide

Crimnal Minds: Reid, Morgan, Prentiss

Stranger Things: Sheriff Hopper, Billy

Rizzoli and Isles: Rizzoli, Maura, or both

Labyrinth: Jareth

Queen of the Damn: Lestat

Henry Cavill Characters, all movies

[roleplayfinder]

27 F. So a very very long time ago, I did a labyrinth Rp, I’d love to do one again. Where a romance will take place!, maybe my oc is the niece of Sarah. I’d love to find someone to play Jareth. I know this is niche but hey!, if your interested pm me!

.

[darkdoverpseeker]

Alright, so it seems like my original submission might have gotten eaten, so I'll try again! If my original was not eaten, my apologies! Hi, my name is Riven! I'm transmasc nb (he/they), 30+. Minors, Terfs, racists, homophobes, and transphobes dni. I generally like my partners to be 21+. I've recently updated my blog to a multi-muse and I'm looking to add some new roleplay partners (not trying to replace anybody!).

My timezone is CST, but I currently work nights on the weekends. I'll have my phone during that time, and will be active even while I'm at work. I generally tend to reply quickly, but not always. Please keep in mind that I am not a machine and roleplaying is not my job. I tend to like to rp within fandom, but I am also more than okay with interacting with fandomless OCs! My current muses are Jack of Blades (Dan Stevens is the faceclaim for his alter ego Xiro) from Fable and Jareth the Goblin King from Labyrinth and I would love to find people willing to play any characters from either property, but I am fine with writing in any fandom I am familiar with (there are a lot... Message me if you're thing isn't listed below!). Here are the ones I can think of off the top of my head:

Fable

Labyrinth

Elder Scrolls

Dungeons & Dragons (Faerun & the Domains of Dread are what I'm most familiar with)

The Witcher (books & games)

Dragon Age

Bioshock

Owl House

As for shipping, I'm not picky about pairings, and my only requirements are that there's some chemistry between our muses and that they both be of age. I don't do smut as a general rule.

I have over 19 years of writing experience and I tend write novella-length replies, particularly when writing here on tumblr. I do not expect length to be matched, but do appreciate effort. I do like to use icons when rping here on tumblr, but don't tend to use them on Discord.

I write a lot of violent and dark imagery that may be disturbing to some, so please keep that in mind when interacting (I am a huge fan of whump and hurt/comfort, for example!). I guess that counts as 🕊️?

I rp here and on Discord. If you're interested, like this post and I'll reach out!

like if interested!

[universesofcheska]

The first thing Sarah noticed was Nilrem's total non-reaction to them both at his door, despite seeing the prized Virhaven brandy. Admittedly, she had expected SOME kind of personal greeting after the reactions of Kingsley and Gallagher. Jareth had meant the comment about this man's cloudy disposition. Still, she did as he bade with a smile and followed in the cold wake of his teacher into his rather cold home.

It was dim inside. No artificial lights, not even fire, which the place sorely needed. But not unpleasantly, natural light filled it with a soft, blue-ish glow, coming down in shafts from the skylights and illuminating the dust-covered furniture here and there. Motes of it swirled from one shaft to the other, dancing with their movement through the space.

It smelled of ancient books and older wood; it was a place of wisdom, curiosity and leisurely pace.

Glancing around, she tried to politely ignore their tense conversation, and imagined how difficult Jareth's education must have been under the tutelage of someone so wholly unmoved by his attitude and caprice. Hearing Nilrem put him in his place over and over was extremely satisfying for the girl who found herself so often affected, for better or worse, by the King's verbal weaponry. A small smile curved her lips as they went at it and she decided she liked this man.

However, the sight of the dragon hatchling snoring smokily on the table knocked the smugness off her face. Her hands flew her to mouth to hush the squeal that erupted, pausing to see if the creature was real, if she had woken it. She stepped closer, eyes wide, and stopped breathing.

Growing up, Sarah had been the child pressed up against the glass at the zoo, imagining horns on the zebras and wings on the alligators. Now, she was astounded to see the types of scales and protruding teeth that weren't wholly unfamiliar; but the shape of that snout, those claw-tipped wings, this arrangement of bones in a reptilian body were not of her world; or at least, not anymore. It felt exactly like the first time she had seen the fairies Hoggle was chasing.

She longed to reach out her hand but willed her feet to continue around the table to follow the men, even as her disbelieving eyes stayed on the dragon. She made a mental note to take the King aside sometime soon and pointedly ask which other mythological creatures she could expect to see in her lifetime so that the sight of them finally ceased to short-circuit her poor mortal brain.

At least the sudden apparition of objects wasn't as shocking as it had been at first.

Sarah gave a polite "thank you" as she took her floating mug and settled in the chair closest to the newly lit fire, this constant reminder of the extraordinary keeping her energy and attention heightened.

She thought better of interrupting their sharp exchange by giving her name, and waited until after Jareth formally introduced her to incline her head and express that the pleasure was hers.

"Sarah, this is Nilrem of Monmouth, High Sorcerer of the Traq’iate Order, Supreme Wizard of the Fae court,"

She was quite impressed by the title and worked to chew it into some form of sense when it was followed by, "esteemed by their Royal Majesties, King Oberon and Queen Titania.”

Nilrem’s face cracked at last. “Your aunt and uncle would be very glad to hear you speak so magnanimously of their court, given your penchant of breaking social convention at every given opportunity.”

In a very un-champion-like way, Sarah's mouth fell open as she looked between the two men. Of course, they gave her absolutely no time to absorb the newly laid out information before jumping into the next thing. Really, the pace of Fae was merciless.

Nilrem, reading Jareth’s expression, inclined his head at the king before turning to face Sarah. “It is an honor to have the Champion of the Labyrinth at my hearth,” he stated, before gifting her the first smile of the visit. “I think I would be correct in assuming that your visit to this realm, and thus your presence in my home, was not on purpose. Is that right?”

Sarah had to all but shake herself to focus on the task at hand, and clearing her throat with an 'um', she and Jareth filled him in on all the events that led up to their visit. When they had summarized things to his content, he stroked his beard, looking at the fire in contemplation.

“It is as I thought,” he murmured. “The Labyrinth is unhappy. What have been your efforts thus far to appease it?

Jareth replied, “The usual. Communed with the behemoth. Made certain it was none of the typical sorts of nonsense that can occur in the Underground. That sort of thing.”

Nilrem clucked his tongue. “That is not enough, not nearly enough. There is only one possible explanation that I can think of for why the Labyrinth is so unhappy that it felt the need to bring the Champion back.”

There was an almost-visible blanket of anxiety wrapped around the two adversaries sitting side by side, and the weight of it caused them both to lean slightly forward in anticipation.

“Well?”

“Can you explain your state of mind prior to returning to the Labyrinth, Miss Williams?”

They listened with even patience as Sarah recounted her experience. She stayed concise, but didn't sugarcoat the difficult parts.

Nilrem nodded slowly. “I see.” He reached out to pat the back of her hand, but did not comment any further. “Well, this is how I see it.” He clasped his hands and laid them on his lap. “The Labyrinth has recognized Miss Williams as Champion of the Labyrinth, and as such, has decided that it has a claim upon the young lady.”

Sarah stared at him, not allowing her thoughts to skip ahead to what he could possibly be about to say. "Oh," she said, intelligently.

She reached for her mug to give her nervous hands something to do and took a few big gulps, wishing Nilrem had put some brandy in her tea, too.

His expression then resembled something like pity. “I cannot say if I am sorry to tell you this or not, Miss Williams, but according to the law of the Underground, through your victory, you have a claim to the throne of the Goblin Kingdom.”

The way Sarah flinched caused the tea in her mug to splash over the side.

She gasped, and before it could reach her lap, the amber liquid froze in midair.

The three of them watched as it reversed itself and found its way cleanly back into the container.

A beat of silence went by.

Not having the mental space to process the little trick she'd just performed, Sarah set the mug down, shifted uncomfortably and said, "You're messing with me, right? Like, 'psych, dragons are real, but here's some REALLY warped butter'?"

Sarah recalled all the cruel ways she had tried to convince herself that the Labyrinth had been nothing but a psychological episode to be kept most secret from her judgemental and concerned family and peers. The sudden and complete manifestation of these girlhood dreams she had worked so hard to bury was throwing her. Her face seemed to cave in as shock and elation and doubt warred over her heart like three cats with a ball of yarn.

It was the gentlemen's turn to stare back at her blankly, caught between her confusing modern vocabulary and the bit of magic she had just displayed.

Jareth interjected, “Surely you are not suggesting that I have lost my crown to a mortal girl?”

Sarah shot him a look at that.

Nilrem shook his head. “You and I both know that the Labyrinth has no intention of ever letting you go. No. I hypothesize that the Labyrinth has seen the vacant position of the Goblin Queen, and has deemed Miss Williams to be the proper candidate. In thus selecting her as such, it brought her back.” He stroked his beard once again, looking deep into the flames before them. “In terms of timing,” he murmured thoughtfully, “I would warrant that the statute of limitations for Sarah’s voluntary return ran out.”

Sarah's mind reeled, a jumble of notions tangled with feelings.

Her, a candidate for

Queen

Labyrinth's Queen

The fairy kingdom of her dreams

For a home, A purpose

A leader of subjects

Power, care

Queen, like

The King's Wife -

As in

The Goblin King

The words of her favorite authors spun under her thoughts, "A mortal bride, for the fae king, to take to his home under the hill..."

Sarah slowly turned wide, green eyes on Jareth.

“Meaning?” Jareth asked, archly.

Nilrem shrugged. “In essence, you did not bring her back, and she did not come back of her own volition. So, the Labyrinth took things into its’ own hands. Metaphorically speaking, of course.”

Jareth did not dare to look at Sarah. His heart was beating faster than it had, perhaps ever, beat before. “I see,” he said slowly. “And what, pray tell, do you propose we do about this?”

The older man blinked. “Besides the obvious…?”

Nilrem read the twin blank faces that peered back at him, and he sighed. “Perhaps the simplest solution, then. You must officially make the Champion a member of the Goblin Court. This will enable you to officially recognize her as a Champion of the Labyrinth, and reward her duly. This will satisfy the imbalance and will hopefully allow Sarah to come and go as she pleases, thereby releasing the binding the Labyrinth has placed upon her and allowing you to send her home.”

Nilrem might as well have been her fairy godfather, the way he was speaking so matter-of-factly about her girlhood dreams. Helium filled her veins and she was about to float out of her chair. But the suddenly tight, cold energy wafting off of her companion was a stone in her stomach.

Was he upset? Insulted that he had to recognize her or share the title in some way, perhaps? Of course- a mortal girl must be so beneath the nephew of King Oberon and Queen Titania-

But Jareth, too, clasped his hands. He sat up, overly-cheerful, his eyes remaining anywhere except upon Sarah. “Of course. Yes. Well, that is easily done! We shall return posthaste and make preparations. A ball will suit for such an occasion, do you not think so?” He did not wait for either of their responses before standing and making for the door. “Come, Sarah. We shall need ample time to prepare a ball in your honor, and we cannot let another minute go to waste.”

As Jareth rushed them toward the door, the little dragon raised its head and blinked sleepily, watching them go.

Sarah only had time to blurt over her shoulder, "Thankyousomuchitwaswonderfultomeetyou,I-" before Jareth winnowed them away.

They appeared in one of the hallways of his castle, and Jareth didn't miss a step, walking on as though his atoms hadn't just been put through a blender.

Sarah bodily fell against the wall and she tried to catch her breath, shifting and putting her hands on her knees. "Wait, hold on!" She said to the King's retreating form.

He paused, but that closed-off energy remained. He could hardly meet her eyes for more than a second. "Sarah, we have much work ahead of us-"

"I know, but this is all A LOT at once-"

"You will learn as we go," he replied in that unconcerned, dictating way of his.

"No."

The sconces in the dark hallway suddenly lit themselves. "I need to know more now."

For the first time, Sarah spoke to him with a confidence that had come with maturation and self-security. Whether he respected this boundary would tell her volumes.

"I need to slow down for a second. I don't want to jump into the next thing, next place, new person," And she didn't think her sanity could take another huge hit in the form of an additional mythical creature. "We have to talk... just me and you."

When Jareth met those defiant eyes, Nilrem's words echoed in his head.

"A goblin queen must have strength of character and she must have imagination. She must be brave, clever, and mischievous, Heroic, with a tolerance for you and relishing the opportunity to go toe-to-toe with you."

She watched his face change as he looked at her, but couldn't read the feelings behind it. At least this time, he didn't look away.

She pushed up off the wall, all the questions he had made her bottle up finally tumbling from her lips.

"What will a ball be like? What will I have to do? Who and what will I see?"

She looked down at her hands.

"And... this magic? Are you going to actually show me what to do with this?" With a wave of her hand, the torch closest to her snuffed itself out completely; the gesture Isaac - NOT Jareth- had helped her perfect after her first disastrous attempt. She watched carefully for his reaction, and after a moment of silence, added,

"How do you feel about what Nilrem said? About my claim to the throne?"

She searched his eyes, desperate for answers, but more desperate for a clue to his feelings. She had been so sure he had wanted her around, hadn't wanted her to go. Things felt different, warmer before they saw Nilrem and now it felt like he couldn't get far enough away from her.

Had she imagined that he was her friend? Had she imagined the way his energy reached for hers, the imploration in his eyes that she stay and help fix things?

"I feel... lost. And maybe kind of hungry."

Return to

°•●LABYRINTH●•°

The new environment around Sarah enthralled her. She marvelled at the architecture of the village, at its population, at the object of this new adventure, and yet... none of it was enough to shake her keen awareness of Jareth's presence and proximity.

More than ever, her attention was leashed to him. And when she thought hard about why that was, she couldn't (or wouldn't) entirely pinpoint it.

Since they'd met, Jareth had claimed for himself a central role in Sarah's imagination. Before, it had been an obsession with winning, with being better than this handsome villain, proving to him that she could do all the things he taunted she could not, had tried to stop her from doing. It had been about snatching victory from underneath his perfect nose.

But it wasn't like that now. Now, the champion and the king were on the same team, and it was a dynamic neither of them were navigating with much grace.

Loathe as she was to admit any such thing, however, Jareth WAS doing a much better job at it than she. All the little (and sometimes even gentlemanly) gestures that he had begun since they'd "made up" were quickly teaching her that getting along was much more rewarding than fighting.

Flies, honey, etc.

Especially when he looked at her like that, when he stood too close, towering; the way he moved around her, gently guiding and minding her; and when he - well, he couldn't be flirting ? - when he said those unexpected, wild things that made the blood rush to her cheeks, knocked her off balance and made her uncomfortable in a way she found she might enjoy.

Before she knew it, she found herself walking closer to him, feeling safer, wanting more kernels of this strange new brand of his attention.

Her mind told her that all these must be more tactics to mess with her; more distractions she shouldnt be trusting. But the feelings in her chest begged to disagree. It was a decade later, and things were different. For better or for worse, they had been reunited in his strange home. Sarah did believe, deep down, that the reason for it was to solve this common and dire purpose.

~

The scowl Jareth had put on her face with his teasing softened when she learned that "grown-ups", too, could be wished away; not just by petulant, unthinking, selfish kids but by other, grown adults who had the capacity to mean it.

She felt a fracture in her heart with every new face they came across, and wondered what rules applied to adults who had done such a thing; who had had such little empathy or control of their words that they'd banished another human being to the unknown. It made her sick, thinking of her cynical, ignorant younger self and innocent Toby.

She knew Jareth could make the Labyrinth more difficult or easier for the runners. What governed the flow of his mercury and mercy? Could he weigh souls against Egyptian feathers?

She couldn't temper this craving, this unending lust for magical knowledge and he seemed to anticipate it because he held a leather-clad finger to her lips just as she was about to open them.

She made a helpless, funny picture: her mouth pressed to his fingers as she pouted up at him, the embers in her eyes striking to life at the show of such impolite dominance. A more sheltered eye might have found the picture obscene.

And that comment about the hayloft before he knocked on the door? It was herculean effort to school her expression into polite greeting as though he had not just made her think about the two of them in bed together, much different from the time he had nursed her back from the Taisteale's effects.

This man was driving her madder than a goblin's chicken.

And he knew it.

~

Gallagher was as much of a Virhaven gentleman as Kingsley had been, that same respect and reverence shining in his eyes as he bent over her hands.

The fact that Sarah was the champion, so respected here more than any other place... made her realize her own symbolism: That a wisher could be so sorry, so full of regret and love that she could be victorious, that that love was strong enough- not just against some awful villain who had stolen a loved one- but against the steadfast guardian of the wished-aways, who asked runners to prove their worth and sorrow, to earn back the precious thing they'd lost...

...Sarah blinked up at Jareth.

He was their protector.

It was SHE who was the villain, reformed.

~

The brewery smelled mouthwatering; bright with a hint of earthy spice, like the last days of summer.

She followed the men, side stepping the adorable piglet fulfilling his duties with zeal.

As Jareth held out the apple toward her, Sarah went wide-eyed. Her mortal manners had her reach out to take it, but she realized half way through that there was much, much more meaning in this.

She met his intense gaze and knew exactly what he was doing.

For a moment, they were standing in the ruins of his tower, him in that white feather cloak she had so often dreamed of, and her in that wrinkled, baggy, poet's shirt she couldn't bring herself to put in the donation box.

A girl, not entirely understanding his offer.

His eyes, back then, had frightened her. Immature dreams swirled in his crystal.

Jareth hadn't wanted her to win, and it had nothing to do with whether she deserved Toby back or how much she had meant those first words to the goblins.

Jareth hadn't wanted her to leave at all. Jareth didn't want her to leave now.

And Sarah wasn't afraid.

She deliberately took the apple from his hand as Gallagher continued the conversation before heading off.

A few quiet moments went by.

“I should warn you, Sarah,” Jareth said to her, raising his head from the vat and glancing in her direction, “The man we are about to visit is a supercilious, cantankerous old podge, but he is the foremost expert in the Labyrinth. Excepting myself, of course.”

He took the final bite of his own apple with unhurried grace, and was about to let it fall from his fingers onto the floor when, after considering for another moment, he wrapped it within a handkerchief and placed it carefully in his pocket.

Sarah took note.

“He may ask you questions that are uncomfortable, but you are not beholden to answer them.” He walked a little closer, his expression no longer quite so teasing. He considered her.

“It would, of course, help if you did. This situation goes beyond anything we have experienced before. I would say that I am worried, but that would be an impossible notion.” He smiled a bit for her, in his teasing way, but it did not reach his eyes. He gestured to the apple in her hand.

“You do know that I would never truly hurt you, don’t you, Precious?” he asked quietly.

There was no questioning his sincerity and concern for the whole predicament. With a new perspective, she was realizing how lost in all this he seemed. She was beginning to understand how much he must care- about her, too. The way he watched out for her, gave her her freedom at every turn, and asked so little of her, that they might work together to heal this home.

Sarah hadn't spent the last decade trying to get back to the Labyrinth just to shy away from uncomfortable questions in it's hour of need.

"However I can help... you can count on me."

With that, she met his eyes, and took a loud, juicy, trust-filled bite of the fruit the Goblin King offered.

~

Sarah imagined that they would find Nilrem in a tall tower, weeding his guests through the use of riddles and charms.

She had been prepared to perform a ritual, to prove herself somehow... or at least look through the hollow of a hag stone. But Jareth lead her up a simple gravel path toward an unassuming, but very well kept cottage at the top of a rocky mountain they had just winnowed to.

The landscaping surrounding the facade was familiar. Tall, decorative hedges framed the home in the corners, shrinking the closer they came to the entrance and framing the driveway in a characteristic, linear manner. Small gnomes sheared the bushes with the help of giant, free-floating rulers, unhurried in their thorough work. There wasn't one fairy in sight.

Aside from the strange angle of the window and door frames, as well as the various beasties at work in the yard, it could have been a human dwelling.

They halted in front of the door. Jareth summoned a crystal bubble and blew it from his fingers. Instead of popping upon contact, it went through the door unharmed, a quiet herald of their presence.

She watched the King bounce on his heels, his arms behind his back; perhaps the most unnkingly she had ever seen him. Almost apprehensive, as he shot her a smile like she was the one that needed reassurance. A far cry from the normal apathetic, unworried confidence he usually exuded.

Noting his shift in energy, she asked, a little smugly (because Sarah knew what it was like to be nervous in front of a teacher) "Where's the brandy?"

Before Jareth could reply, the front door ceased to exist.

In it's place stood a male figure smaller than Sarah.

"Brandy?" A soft, grumbly voice replied.

@kingofthegxblins

[amethyst-beacon]

*Ven and Crues arguing*

Listener who's been watching back and forth: can I get my rations?

*Ven and Crues start fighting*

Listener who's actually getting hungry: can I please have my rations?

[findroleplay]

hi all, I'm an 18+ literate writer who's looking for some more partners! below are my fandoms. I am more than happy to do doubles and I mainly roleplay on discord. if you'd like to plot, like this and I'll reach out.

What We Do In The Shadows

Alice In Wonderland

Marvel

Shadowhunters

Criminal Minds

Harry Potter

Percy Jackson

Twilight

Sherlock

The chronicles of narnia

The lord of the rings

The hobbit

Once upon a time

Bridgerton

Black Butler

Seven Deadly Sins

The Labyrinth

Night in The Woods

Baldur's Gate 3

Hogwarts Legacy

-

[willknightauthor]

Wraith: The Best Game That Never Was

It occurred to me that even among RPG nerds Wraith is more obscure, and that makes me sad. Like people know it existed, but even at the time it was an also-ran. Among insiders at White Wolf it was a darling, but it never took off, so they stopped its line half way through. Even in high school I had to buy the books used online.

Wraith is one of the most original and compelling approaches to the afterlife I've seen in any medium, but especially in an RPG. In many games ghosts feature as NPCs, but rarely do you get to play as them, and even more rarely in an interesting way that centers the subjective experience of being dead.

The first thing that grabbed me was the art, all faded gray-scale, scratchy, often grotesque and surreal. The cover is striking: stark gray bound in chains. All far bleaker and genuinely scarier than anything else put out by White Wolf. Turns out the art matched the vibe of the setting very well, because the ultimate conceit of Wraith is that if the living knew what the afterlife is really like, we'd all be even more terrified to die.

Wraiths are a violation of the laws of nature. Biological life is already an improbable struggle against entropy, but the continued existence of consciousness after death? An absolute affront to the universe. Reality wants you gone, but you can't be killed. That contradiction manifests as Oblivion: non-existence as a visible, active force; the Freudian death drive become physics. And it goes all the way down into your very thoughts.

The afterlife is a world of ideals, not materials. Your well-integrated mind shatters into pieces when you die, and your "physical" form is a manifestation of it. Your Jungian shadow-self, once an unconscious and abstract thing, becomes a real, tangible person living inside you. All your vices, your self-loathing, your misanthropy, your death drive, become a voice in your ear: your best friend and worst enemy, helping and tricking you, constantly trying to gain control.

But you can't be killed. You're already dead. Instead of death, you just decay, further and further towards becoming your shadow. Eventually all that's left is a nightmare of who you used to be, existing only to torment others and drag them down together into nothingness. The world is full of these monsters, the things that go bump in the night and terrify both the living and the dead.

But that's literally the tip of the iceberg. The thin layer of shadow reality is nothing compared to the much larger expanse of the Tempest: a cosmic plane of dream and nightmare, right on the edge of Oblivion. The deep underworld is Lovecraftian Mad Max: an infinite shifting desert of eternal night filled with screaming storms, incomprehensible monsters, and forbidden knowledge. Pockmarking it are islands of stability upon which societies are built--dysfunctional city-states desperately attempting to project power into a world constantly trying to swallow them.

However, if no-one can die, then every awful political trend and tyrant remains forever. And they all have a huge head start on you establishing political power. Their society is a veneer of modern industrial capitalism, layered on top of mercantile guilds, layered on top of feudal lords, layered on top of a Roman imperial bureaucracy, all built on the back of one ancient wraith: the ferryman Charon.

But the Emperor has been missing for a long time, and the bureaucracy is so massive and old that it's rotting in on itself. Who knows how many are secretly succumbing to their own shadows? Their attempts to rule the rest of the underworld are always tenuous, like the last days of Roman Britain. It's a world eternally mid-apocalypse.

The problem with a world of thought and feeling is: how do you make things? What do you make them with? Sometimes the ghosts of physical objects make their way through, and they're mined like whale fall. Undoubtedly the Twin Towers were a huge boon to the dead, probably the site of an entire city.

But it's not enough. Wraiths are still people. They want clothing, and furniture, and buildings, and machines, and tools, and money. Where does all that come from? The only thing left that wraiths can touch: other people. Wraith society is built on a form of slavery more exploitative and horrifying than anything that's ever existed among the living. Slaves are valued not for their labor primarily, but for their use as raw materials.

The vulnerable newly dead are captured, dragged back to the capital, and molded in workshops and factories into goods for the upper classes. They claim it wipes out consciousness, and thus the finished product isn't suffering. If anything it's a mercy! To release them from the torment of the afterlife! And prevent them from becoming monsters! But when it's quiet, if you listen closely, some report you can hear it all whispering.

The bleak alienness of this afterlife to any human religion breaks the minds of many when they first realize they're dead. Some go into denial. Some reject their old religion. Some invent new religious explanations. And some try to twist their old beliefs into a shape that conforms.

The underworld is full of cults. Cults promising escape from the underworld. Cults claiming they know where heaven and hell are. (At best just projections of the collective beliefs of the living into the underworld.) Cults who claim they're building heaven and hell themselves. (These sorts of "afterlife lands" sometimes become tourist attractions.) But Oblivion is Oblivion. If you could describe its structure logically you would be contradicting its very essence. There is only decay.

Most people don't go to the shadowlands when they die. Where do they go? No-one knows. What happens when you're swallowed by Oblivion? No-one knows. Is there a God? No-one knows.

Just like when you were alive, you don't know what comes next, or why you're here. It's not real death, it's something in between. But maybe real death is just nothingness. Better not to risk it, then... even if that means clinging to the sands of Hell under the yoke of an eternal slave-aristocracy.

Maybe if you can figure out why you're here, you'll find a way out.

[stuffedcrocodile]

[Worldbuilding] Just one of each

I have been worldbuilding the last few months instead of actually gaming. The Glimmermark still does not feel ready to actually play in, I am still trying to figure out how to fit the building blocks I have into a coherent whole.

One of the core building blocks is this principle: there’s only going to be one of each.

Which means there will not be oodles of huge monsters just walking…

[here-there-be-drag0ns]

TO BE CLEAR - this is not a theory or a prediction, this is me being silly and going a little insane. genuinely im excited to see whoever it is thats gonna be playing solaris and i will be thrilled with whoever aimsey chose. this is just me being silly about the slime man lmao

fanart for the asmp inbound o7 i am thoroughly enjoying this giggling kicking my feet about a!guqqie and a!aimsey's kiss by the lake and weeping over the betrayal in the stronghold and also i am an a!jimmy and a!martyn enthusiast lmao big dogs big dogs

[immortal-saccharin-swan]

Getting her somewhere safe would be the best start. Make sure nobody can find her while she’s resting. She’s fallen, not evil. She won’t hurt you unless you hurt her, which is something the witches didn’t get.

"Alright- if you're sure-"

*Carameleon, after taking a deep breathe, waddles up to Eternal Sugar.*

*Eternal Sugar barely lifts her head at the new presence, barely reacting to the little clawed hands grabbing her arm and pulling her over to a nearby bush.*

"heavy-"

[villainfell]

ind, sel, priv, multi-muse. penned by salem (they/them). ╰┈➤ carrd. | memes. | interest tracker. | opens. | plots. | opposites.

[roleplayfinder]

Hey!

Trying to get back into RP after a long hiatus!

I am 25 soon to be 26 (🥲) so no minors please!! 18+ only

I have been roleplaying for around 13 years now. Started on Quizilla and old YouTube comment sections - those were the days man 👵🏻.

I write in 3rd person POV, anywhere from 250 words plus, word length doesn’t really bother me tbh just as long as we both have enough to work with! But no one liners please! ^^’

I definitely prefer a plot focused RP and I love brainstorming with my partners so please feel free to bring your ideas to me!!!

I love OOC chat, brainstorming ideas and scenarios, Spotify playlists, TikTok’s, memes, you made an edit for your ship? I live for it! 🫡

I also love AU ideas/scenarios and totally up for doing these!

On to the Fandoms!!

What I am really craving right now & Love interests:-

🩸Vampire Diaries🩸 - (Klaus Mikaelson)

🪄Harry Potter🪄 - (Draco Malfoy)

💃🏽Moulin Rogue💃🏽 (Christian, OC) (interested in doing this or some au based on it!)

Potentially open to:-

🔫 Legend 🔫 - (Reggie Kray)

💰Gossip Girl💰 - (Carter Baizen)

🧚‍♀️Once Upon A Time 🧚‍♀️- (Jefferson - The Mad Hatter) (I haven’t seen past like season 4 but I can research and refresh myself for this!)

🚬Peaky Blinders🚬 - (John Shelby)

🔮Labyrinth 🔮 (OC)

I guess that’s everything for now!

If any of these sound of interest to anyone out there please send me a chat!☺️🌼

.

[darkdoverpseeker]

27 F. So a very very long time ago, I did a labyrinth Rp, I’d love to do one again. Where a romance will take place!, maybe my oc is the niece of Sarah. I’d love to find someone to play Jareth. I know this is niche but hey!, if your interested pm me!

.

[lostinthelabyrinthrp]

OFFICIALLY OPEN! Hey there everyone! I'm so happy to say that our early access was a huge success and we've become a new home for so many amazing people already, and now we open our doors to all of you!

We offer a beautiful skin, vibrant community, a social discord, an auto member directory, custom development and venue sub-boards available in a robust point shop, monthly events, unique locations in an AU NYC & LA, a light and dark mode switch, and more! All we're missing is YOU! Join us: Site: https://lostinthelabyrinth.jcink.net Discord: https://discord.gg/litl

[amethyst-beacon]

Ven hissing: I should have killed you.

Crues scoffing: sadly were matched equally.

Listener watching from the web: can I please be released....