sorry i went mia for a bit there. life took it’s toll anyway, like this for a starter
me: i’m gonna romance 707 this time me, four days later: hello jumin’s route i’m so--- wait fuck this again
one more time, like this for a starter
Character solidifying!
1. How does your character think of their father? What do they hate and love about him? What influence - literal or imagined - did the father have? 2. Their mother? How do they think of her? What do they hate? Love? What influence - literal or imagined - did the mother have? 3. Brothers, sisters? Who do they like? Why? What do they despise about their siblings? 4. What type of discipline was your character subjected to at home? Strict? Lenient? 5. Were they overprotected as a child? Sheltered? 6. Did they feel rejection or affection as a child? 7. What was the economic status of their family? 8. How does your character feel about religion? 9. What about political beliefs? 10. Is your character street-smart, book-smart, intelligent, intellectual, slow-witted? 11. How do they see themselves: as smart, as intelligent, uneducated? 12. How does their education and intelligence – or lack thereof - reflect in their speech pattern, vocabulary, and pronunciations? 13. Did they like school? Teachers? Schoolmates? 14. Were they involved at school? Sports? Clubs? Debate? Were they unconnected? 15. Did they graduate? High-School? College? Do they have a PHD? A GED? 16. What does your character do for a living? How do they see their profession? What do they like about it? Dislike? 17. Did they travel? Where? Why? When? 18. What did they find abroad, and what did they remember? 19. What were your character’s deepest disillusions? In life? What are they now? 20. What were the most deeply impressive political or social, national or international, events that they experienced? 21. What are your character’s manners like? What is their type of hero? Whom do they hate? 22. Who are their friends? Lovers? ‘Type’ or ‘ideal’ partner? 23. What do they want from a partner? What do they think and feel of sex? 24. What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually? 25. What are their hobbies and interests? 26. What does your character’s home look like? Personal taste? Clothing? Hair? Appearance? 27. How do they relate to their appearance? How do they wear their clothing? Style? Quality? 28. Who is your character’s mate? How do they relate to him or her? How did they make their choice? 29. What is your character’s weaknesses? Hubris? Pride? Controlling? 30. Are they holding on to something in the past? Can he or she forgive? 31. Does your character have children? How do they feel about their parental role? About the children? How do the children relate? 32. How does your character react to stress situations? Defensively? Aggressively? Evasively? 33. Do they drink? Take drugs? What about their health? 34. Does your character feel self-righteous? Revengeful? Contemptuous? 35. Do they always rationalize errors? How do they accept disasters and failures? 36. Do they like to suffer? Like to see other people suffering? 37. How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories? 38. Are they basically negative when facing new things? Suspicious? Hostile? Scared? Enthusiastic? 39. What do they like to ridicule? What do they find stupid? 40. How is their sense of humor? Do they have one? 41. Is your character aware of who they are? Strengths? Weaknesses? Idiosyncrasies? Capable of self-irony? 42. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain? 43. Does your character have any secrets? If so, are they holding them back? 44. How badly do they want to obtain their life objectives? How do they pursue them? 45. Is your character pragmatic? Think first? Responsible? All action? A visionary? Passionate? Quixotic? 46. Is your character tall? Short? What about size? Weight? Posture? How do they feel about their physical body? 47. Do they want to project an image of a younger, older, more important person? Does they want to be visible or invisible? 48. How are your character’s gestures? Vigorous? Weak? Controlled? Compulsive? Energetic? Sluggish? 49. What about voice? Pitch? Strength? Tempo and rhythm of speech? Pronunciation? Accent? 50. What are the prevailing facial expressions? Sour? Cheerful? Dominating?
Source: thescriptlab.com
thoughtlocks-blog reblogged
ugh.
He knows her eyes track him in the darkness so akin to a cat watching both rat or wolf alike as it slithers its shape through the shadows. He likes to think himself the latter; a toothy grin to hide the hunger for blood and flesh in two very different ways. Even when she has the blood of moons running silver through veins branched devine, she is /very/ capable of bleeding out every last glistening drop. But that would be a waste and a shame and just one more hidden vessel in the cosmos for a holy glow that is right here, right now, where it should be.
“Exaaactly. Then who gives a shit about guns, huh? You got so much more right at your fingertips.” He bobs a little with his knees for emphasis, points at the lily white hands that present so pretty and petite in spite of the universe bound into crushing force beneath their velvet, violent strokes. He’d much rather discuss her than them, after all – the hunters she defends in a blunt cold-front he ignores apart from a short snort of laughter. But then she continues and he’s forced to stand still again, hands on his hips and the start of a sneer ghosting its pull up his lip.
“Oh, you think that’s them being smart? Uh, I dunno if you remember, but I’ve played their dumb asses from here to next Tuesday. They only mess up my plans when I want them to.” He tips his chin up, ever the image of pride and ego and dominance that gets him the fame, the fortune, the screams of the blood-soaked and broken who crawl on their knees begging for his mercy and favor. “But it is gonna stay our little secret. Way more fun that way aaaand I’m pretty sure you agree. Am I right or am I right?” He winks because he can, because he wants to see any sliver of something beneath the crystalline cover of ice that proves his mark (like the fidget and the scowl, the toss of hair, the narrowed eyes when he purrs kitten through his smirk).
He moves again, prowls his way to the corner of the bed and pretends to pluck a stray thread from the sheets. “Don’t you worry, kiddo. I mean, you still have a lot to make up to me if you want us to be compadres, capisce? But, uh, I really think you’re missin’ the point…” His tongue flicks out along the line of his lower lip, feels that sliver between mask and flesh just barely. “This is your chance to see who – and what – you really are. Unless you like being dragged down by filthy bandits. Maybe you don’t have much brains at all…”
she didn’t want to be friends, companions, buddies or any such vile term that seeped into her mind at his little snide comment. allied with devil himself yet that prospect had only been brokered by foundation of interest in her bones warranted only by the confusion that the galaxy had thrust upon her. and he tests her patience must as she does the same to him. graceful figure slips and shifts finally across a silken comforter, moving towards the edge on the bed and upon her knees no less though her back is rigid. standing would issue a contest, a try of wills but the siren would not balk or curl during this moment. no, she rises instead to meet him, eyes adjusting to see a fake visage in neon lighting.
head tilts, cascading ocean gifted tresses along almost bare shoulders, the fairest strands catching plainly on sneering tiers. there is no need to be delicate now, not as she shifts to cross arms over a loosely covered bust, watchful of the smirking expression he dons. what a man to think he’s already won, garnered something great that even the holiest of creatures could not fathom. though less than pristine plans went awry for her own, cascaded in filth and false warrants, only to think they’ve achieved a leg up. it’s an expression he’s earned and she despises him for it and cunning vexation that it stirs in her mind. whether the world cared to admit it, everything had fallen perfectly into his lap... well, not everything. break before you bend girl.
“ -- jack, ” his name comes as a curse, a slur that feels like bile on her tongue, and char; far huskier than she wanted it to be. “ i’m here, so don’t mistake my concern for them as stupidity. ” she has loyalty, that much is certain. even now in the den of a man with a wolfish grin, aiming to swallow her whole. he’s going to fucking choke on her.
weight falls back on her haunches, backside resting against ankles. she must look the part of the petulant child, scorned and distant with hardly a chance of getting her way. it’s better like this, however, a folly for her to shiver against pillows and between sheets. the siren is not meant to be small and unseen, a triumph of everything in heavenly luster. he had to know this when he had asked her here. “ -- why are you so interested in me or what i can do ? and please, more importantly, what the hell do i have to make up to you ? killing your employees, ruining a base or two. maybe you forgot, but trying to murder someone tends to bring out those types of grudges. but fine, i’ll just... -- ” her inhale is sharp and the bones of her neck pop as she adjusts.
“ -- go along with it. but so help you goddess if you come close to me with any of your science goons... ” it’s a threat left unfinished. one he should know she won’t finish, he made a deal with a wild animal expecting any less would be.... absolutely insane.
thoughtlocks-blog reblogged
compensating.
She doesn’t take the bait, doesn’t wilt beneath the bite of his taunts. She’d probably break better beneath the bite of teeth, the crunch of fangs, the clench of coils, the drag of talons, the burn of Pandora’s molten blood, but words are the only weapons he has when distance perches her safe out of an ancient reach, a snare of the eons. Even the lazy ease with which a claw ghosts through his image makes his veins itch hot, a reminder that it would be so easy to crush her clever throat silent in one grab… If only. He is forced only to curl a lip, show one jagged edge of pearly whites better bathed red when his mood runs sour.
“All words, babe. Between the two of us, I’m the one who walks the walk instead of just talkin’ the talk.” He refuses to let a few purred insults dig beneath rock-hard scales when his pride is still so much fire. Even if there is always the urge to prove them wrong, show her where to stuff all her so-called slyness where it’s hard to swallow.
It’s his turn to laugh, though – a low, smug cackle as he pretends to become more interested in the roll of his sleeve. “Ohhh, I dunno about that. I mean, you can only imagine the things I’ve seen, the things I’ve learned. I mean, it’s not like I have this giant library of private data only I’m allowed to see– Oh, that’s right, I totally do and it’s got the craziest shit in it. Y’know, the kind that’s obviously your sorta freaky fetish.” His database is something spectacular, after all; a treasure trove of information since the mysterious origins of his birth. He himself might not care much for the contents aged like fine wines, but he does like dangling meat in front of a lion’s open jaws just to watch it squirm.
“But riddles are boring. You’d have to think up a real good one if you wanted to impress me. And, uh, it’s preeeetty obvious you do. Don’t look so desperate, pumpkin.”
babe ? a fresh scowl paints a picture along the crinkle of her nose and her plush mouth frowns at the delivery of yet another pet name. the previous toss of kitten had bothered her, a legacy casted in ferocious feline fortune that ebbed and flowed like the tide upon the shore, but babe; REALLY ? she should have walked away right there, pride bid her stay amongst the monstrous things beyond the veil. men have felt the crush of her jaws, the prickle of claws against bare skin, hardly so in favor for their benefit. no one’s ever had that pleasure. a weighty scoff seethes past her cheeks, full blown and aggravated. he suggests she is not as dangerous as he. perhaps he’s right, the gods did not ache to fell her, instead upon high areas gifted her with grace and beauty in carnage. “ please try to tell the corpses i’ve created that, ” a purred hum follows as she turns from the mirror.
his voice booms in the emptiness of the area, within the walls of a library kept host and home. sacred space, the scent of mildew and murk pervading senses, creeping along bones left to decay until their very marrow dissipated to dust, and the stale odor of binding glue chipping away hung readily in the air. cobble floor creaked and waned, clunks of rock shifting unevenly beneath her feet and he speaks of grandiose things, divine splendor that may never fade. she’s learned plenty in her time, more than most -- far more and she despises the eagerness that sinks itself into the pit of her stomach at the prospect of more.
“ i don’t have a fetish, ” is that all the tooth you can muster, girl ? fingers fidget idly with the edges of stacked books, fussing and fixing. it’s better than giving him her whole attention; he had yet to earn that, especially if he didn’t want to play along with her coy arrangement. only one man in her history had ever won, but this creature isn’t a man, is he ? titan. dragon. carved from coal and the shrill horrors that seep from the mind’s of would be celestial bodies.
her jaw clicks and she hates herself a little for this,
“ impress you; where did you ever get that notion ? i offered you a simple exchange, and you turned to mockery almost immediately. you answer my question, incorrectly, i get what i want and if you’re correct, you get whatever want. ” finally her gaze shifts back to the reflection, exasperated yet oddly smiling impishly, “ -- but i do have hundreds of things to entertain me outside this figment of a library that you speak of. and if you have nothing to fear, you’d put it up to bet. especially if you’re so intelligent that my query would hardly phase you. but, i understand if you feel... -- inadequate. ”
#jackfromthegrave#». ʷʰᵒ ᵈᵉᵃˡˢ ⁱⁿ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ⁿᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ˡⁱᵉˢ | HORRORLANDS#i'm pretty sure the whole turning into a steer and dragging a woman out to sea takes the prize on that one#also didn't the son of zeus kill your most precious children. that's gotta give him something.#father like son blah blah blah blah how's ur monster wife. still trapped in that cave for eternity ?
jackfromthegrave replied to your post “firstdegreefraud replied to your post “hey baby ducks ~ i hope...”
#rude
tfw u hit 2 close 2 home
thoughtlocks-blog reblogged
❝ He who wears the crown must bear its weight ❞
independent the pre-sequel jack. est. june 17th, 2015
#; ( PROMO ) .#let me just say something real quick#i don't talk to this darling nearly enough. they are vibrant. they are creative. and they are just so astounding with the amount of#effort that they put forth into jack. especially all the aspects of him prior to bl2#like legit cinnamon roll roleplaying a would be poison sinnamon roll like i don't#fucking christ i love them ???#✖︎. OUT OF LOCK
firstdegreefraud replied to your post “hey baby ducks ~ i hope everyone is as perfect as they should be! i’ll...”
i read this too fast and i thought it said baby dicks for a second and i was like 'word.'
it’s the new code name for everyone who works at hyperion.
thoughtlocks-blog reblogged
this tool.
“ oh gosh I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise you were the one making the calls now. isn’t that just hilarious? “ he frowned to himself as he drummed his fingers along the desk, idly humming as he wondered whether to send in some moonshots and play a little whack-a-vault-hunter. hell, even if he didn’t hit the siren there was always a possibility he would hit and kill something else. it’s not like he had anything to lose, wasn’t his problem. the man chuckled, “ that’s just great, sweetheart, didn’t plan on gettin’ steam comin’ outta your goddamn ears, just wanted ta’ chat and ask ya’ when you planned ta’ go and die. “ no he totally just called just to fuck around with and piss off the assholes that somehow didn’t go boom with the train like good vault hunters.
“ -- for a man that wants me dead, you sure call and think of me a lot. ” she baits the beast, a foul play. she’s always been devilishly coy, a wickedness floundered in her very blood. on that she blames the monks and priests who raised her on high, coiling in herself the grand prospect of godhood ; she didn’t believe it, mind you, but it certainly helped in dealing with men who wore broken crowns. yet his question comes with a certain poetic timing, whether he knew it or not, she barely escaped a constructors unadulterated mechanical rage. friendship gulag ? needs a new name, personally. “ hey, how much have i cost you already ? axton and i have a little bet going with who can--- ” a shot of slime poison in bullet form to degrade the flesh of another stooge. “ -- liquidate your assets. ”
?
‘ Actually , you’re KINDA taking the FUN outta this … ’ STEALING from assholes && IDIOTS was easy — this almost felt like CHARITY ;; she’d been c a u g h t RED-HANDED && instead of being met with gunfire && THREATS it’s mild annoyance , an invitation to take what she was after … ‘ Forget it … ’ The gun is d r o p p e d , she’ll even take a step back to prove she’s serious. Hatred for Pandora ?? She can relate … ‘ It really is the WORST , huh ?? ’
well, this wasn’t remotely how she expected this altercation to go. a little lackluster but perhaps her reaction had just been the same for the would be thief. shoulders give a lazy roll, mouth quirking to one side. “ stealing from people is fun for you ? ” it’s the nicest way she could have meant that question, especially coming from a woman who kills others for a living from time to time. “ -- and yeah, this place is not on my list of favorite vacation spots. that brochure i got lied. ” a false attempt at humor and she sits down, kicking up sand in the movement. this girl is of little threat to a woman who weaves universes between her fingers.
thoughtlocks-blog reblogged
fiona.
She sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth, her cheekbone aching in the memory of Brick’s brutal retaliation. Overblown retelling or no, it had been a matter of survival ——— of protection, regardless off how successful her defense had been. Definitely not the best introduction to her Vault Hunting peers. At least they seem to be a forgiving bunch.
❛ I really did. But, in my defense, my ribs were being crushed. ❜
she favors practicality over instinct; it’s kept her alive longer than some. and holding grudges in the borderlands never really ended well for most people -- she could name a few, a select few. may the goddess never rest their souls . so by comparison to her friends, she could really muster up any ill-will. plus, zer0 seemed to like her and that had been enough for the siren. even if brick continued to limp around like a lame puppy. “ -- the rocker launcher, right ? surprised athena even let you get in a shit situation like that. ”
actually she’s more impressed that athena was still breathing but that had been another matter entirely.
And here he was— picking up the pieces. Handsome Jack promised to clean up Pandora, to rid the parasites from within and to make it a better place. But now, all he’s able to find these days are serrated edges of echoed oaths. And Sirens; FINDERS KEEPERS.
His own pistol hovers, the barrel extended to aim for the woman- the glint of dull metal swallowed by the brink of movement as Jack steps ever closer. He knows what she’s capable of, watched, observed the demolition conceived of her blood, her origin. It’s all garbage now. Mismatched blues and greens smooth across her expression, seeking one form or another of emotion that regards beyond seething spite and brutality. Jack doesn’t expect much, but boy… is it invigorating.
“I don’t.” Comes a snap reply and the crooked smile of a tyrant king, with his steel crown so far stretched down his neck it may as well be the noose. His tone bleeds with arrogance, “But I just wanna hear you say it. And maybe—” A small considerate pause digs between, coy in all aspects, “- I’ll let you live.”
he’s not the first to threaten her life nor perhaps will he be the last, but with a consequence beyond the bounds of mere scope, he may be the only one to actually ever follow through. and yet her existence is carved from the womb of the universe, stars littering her hair, and supernovas in her eyes. when she falls, another rises -- simple, concrete, and unavoidable. nature deplores a vacuum.
and so she stares down the barrel of her gun, sculpted eyebrow arching. if he didn’t care, why bother asking ? that’s something the siren’s already concocted an answer to. ever since she landed on this horrendous excuse for a planet, saddled herself in the seat of that train, and felt embers sear into her skin it’s been nothing but a wretched game.
her own lips smile in response to his, ever slight and barely the ghost of cocky amusement dimpling into pale cheeks. fingers flex on the grip of her gun, index hovering between guard and trigger. “ --- see, i don’t really believe that. you haven’t exactly instilled trust, ” a weak scoff escapes painted lips. they’ll be here forever. stand down, shoot up. pick one, maya, neither of you have all day. for a sparse second she relents, a fumble of reason. “ and what i want doesn’t matter. originally, i wanted to find more out about what i am and now i just kinda want to put a bullet between your eyes, but even that you’re ruining. so, the better question would probably be, is this what you want ? ”
probably, actually. she didn’t have particularly high hopes at this point.
Anonymous asked:
you've been a giant inspiration and, like, #goals writer for me ever since i made my blog and started following your blogs around. your writing flows so elegantly and you have this gift for description and emotion and jdkfjsh i love reading it no matter who your muse is at the time. idk, frankly i could swoon over your writing for a very, very long time. please continue. also: please know that you, yourself, are a giant inspiration for me, too. you're an awesome person and you rock.
anonymously or not send me your opinion about me and my roleplaying ; always accepting
i really don’t have any words for this, outside of the usual thank you. only because words cannot adequately express how much this means to me ? it’s really easy to post memes and starter calls, get things sent into your ask or for people to like them but when it comes down to asking what other people think of you, crickets chirp and for someone to take the time to send something, especially something like this that just makes my heart sing and makes me want to write even more is just --- ahhhh so, sincerely, thank you and i’m so happy i can be an inspiration to you in a way. i just
thoughtlocks-blog reblogged
devulo
do u ever just look at someone and get annoyed