*Anyway, does anyone want to take a shot at rp with me?*
*yeah dude just intro i'm down*
*I got you, here's an intro from a cowboy OC I made. It's pretty long*
The world is a terribly diverse place, anyone can do anything with nearly no conceivable restriction, and even in the case there are some things stoppin' people, loopholes are surprisinly abundant. Outliers, people far from the norm, can be found if anyone were to look hard enough. Even if someone weren't to look too hard, they'd probably find an outlier without even knowin' it. On the outskirts of town is one of these outliers, the sound of the clopping trots of a horse against the ground, the smell of arid sand in the air, and a blazing sun pourin down. A man sits atop his horse in this scene, most of his face hidden by the brim of his brown leather hat and silky maroon bandana, his clothes an open cloak of coal black cloth. He wears a dirty suit underneath the cloak, cut and torn in places, although not revealing any skin because of the cloak on top. His hands hold the reins tightly, wearing two different gloves, each strange in its own way. One glove is a stark white with a golden cross outlined in the silk, the other is a jet black with a five pointed star crafted into the leather. He doesn't speak as he rides, the six shooter on his belt strange in a way of its own, the many other trinkets jangling with every step of the horse. He rides into town, lookin' for somethin' or maybe someone.
*do you have another? My brain hurts and I made it two lines*
*Fine, what kind of person do you want?*
*sorry dude. Give me your silliest/craziest*
*Nah it's good.*
The Jester is standing atop of his wagon with a smile on his mask, playing his lute.
A hooded traveller with a blindfold and walking stick seems to enjoy the music as they sit nearby.
He smiles to them, after his routine saying “Did you like the music? It took me a while to get as good as I’ve gotten now.”
The cowboy is walking around town with his horse, adjusting his gloves occasionally, breathing out visible breathes, despite the heat of the sun pouring down. He seems to be talking with the horse, having one side of a full conversation.
*Well this sucks. I just realized that my new character isn't actually ambitious or adventurous at this point in time. I'm going to have to give them a reason to want to interact with someone who looks very much like they're the type to hunt them down for money or clout.*
"A-ah. That's horrifying. I'd still like to, uh, get out of here, since these guys are, um, specialized in hunting massively dangerous supernaturals, and, uh, I'd like to spend the lowest possible amount of time in their line of sight."
"Oh sure.." she nods, her expression turning a little sad "I hope you have a nice day."
*Anyway, does anyone want to take a shot at rp with me?*
*yeah dude just intro i'm down*
*I got you, here's an intro from a cowboy OC I made. It's pretty long*
The world is a terribly diverse place, anyone can do anything with nearly no conceivable restriction, and even in the case there are some things stoppin' people, loopholes are surprisinly abundant. Outliers, people far from the norm, can be found if anyone were to look hard enough. Even if someone weren't to look too hard, they'd probably find an outlier without even knowin' it. On the outskirts of town is one of these outliers, the sound of the clopping trots of a horse against the ground, the smell of arid sand in the air, and a blazing sun pourin down. A man sits atop his horse in this scene, most of his face hidden by the brim of his brown leather hat and silky maroon bandana, his clothes an open cloak of coal black cloth. He wears a dirty suit underneath the cloak, cut and torn in places, although not revealing any skin because of the cloak on top. His hands hold the reins tightly, wearing two different gloves, each strange in its own way. One glove is a stark white with a golden cross outlined in the silk, the other is a jet black with a five pointed star crafted into the leather. He doesn't speak as he rides, the six shooter on his belt strange in a way of its own, the many other trinkets jangling with every step of the horse. He rides into town, lookin' for somethin' or maybe someone.
*do you have another? My brain hurts and I made it two lines*
*Fine, what kind of person do you want?*
*sorry dude. Give me your silliest/craziest*
*Nah it's good.*
The Jester is standing atop of his wagon with a smile on his mask, playing his lute.
A hooded traveller with a blindfold and walking stick seems to enjoy the music as they sit nearby.
He smiles to them, after his routine saying “Did you like the music? It took me a while to get as good as I’ve gotten now.”
"It's nice."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3 Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3 Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
"A-ah. That's horrifying. I'd still like to, uh, get out of here, since these guys are, um, specialized in hunting massively dangerous supernaturals, and, uh, I'd like to spend the lowest possible amount of time in their line of sight."
"Oh sure.." she nods, her expression turning a little sad "I hope you have a nice day."
"I mean, would you like to, uh, come with me?"
She lights back up and nods, following after, skipping about.
*I was planning on it. I’m ready to go, you want me to describe it, because I don’t think this is my category, considering Damian is going to be late.*
The cowboy is walking around town with his horse, adjusting his gloves occasionally, breathing out visible breathes, despite the heat of the sun pouring down. He seems to be talking with the horse, having one side of a full conversation.
*Well this sucks. I just realized that my new character isn't actually ambitious or adventurous at this point in time. I'm going to have to give them a reason to want to interact with someone who looks very much like they're the type to hunt them down for money or clout.*
*I'll be back in a bit.*
*It ain’t nothin to worry about. Oh man, I really link with this character as a Texas country boi.*
*Anyway, does anyone want to take a shot at rp with me?*
*yeah dude just intro i'm down*
*I got you, here's an intro from a cowboy OC I made. It's pretty long*
The world is a terribly diverse place, anyone can do anything with nearly no conceivable restriction, and even in the case there are some things stoppin' people, loopholes are surprisinly abundant. Outliers, people far from the norm, can be found if anyone were to look hard enough. Even if someone weren't to look too hard, they'd probably find an outlier without even knowin' it. On the outskirts of town is one of these outliers, the sound of the clopping trots of a horse against the ground, the smell of arid sand in the air, and a blazing sun pourin down. A man sits atop his horse in this scene, most of his face hidden by the brim of his brown leather hat and silky maroon bandana, his clothes an open cloak of coal black cloth. He wears a dirty suit underneath the cloak, cut and torn in places, although not revealing any skin because of the cloak on top. His hands hold the reins tightly, wearing two different gloves, each strange in its own way. One glove is a stark white with a golden cross outlined in the silk, the other is a jet black with a five pointed star crafted into the leather. He doesn't speak as he rides, the six shooter on his belt strange in a way of its own, the many other trinkets jangling with every step of the horse. He rides into town, lookin' for somethin' or maybe someone.
*do you have another? My brain hurts and I made it two lines*
*Fine, what kind of person do you want?*
*sorry dude. Give me your silliest/craziest*
*Nah it's good.*
The Jester is standing atop of his wagon with a smile on his mask, playing his lute.
A hooded traveller with a blindfold and walking stick seems to enjoy the music as they sit nearby.
He smiles to them, after his routine saying “Did you like the music? It took me a while to get as good as I’ve gotten now.”
*nothing screams kosher like a herangon and tiefling marrying after conceiving a child.*
*no not that I mean keep it pg/pg13.*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3 Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
*Anyway, does anyone want to take a shot at rp with me?*
*yeah dude just intro i'm down*
*I got you, here's an intro from a cowboy OC I made. It's pretty long*
The world is a terribly diverse place, anyone can do anything with nearly no conceivable restriction, and even in the case there are some things stoppin' people, loopholes are surprisinly abundant. Outliers, people far from the norm, can be found if anyone were to look hard enough. Even if someone weren't to look too hard, they'd probably find an outlier without even knowin' it. On the outskirts of town is one of these outliers, the sound of the clopping trots of a horse against the ground, the smell of arid sand in the air, and a blazing sun pourin down. A man sits atop his horse in this scene, most of his face hidden by the brim of his brown leather hat and silky maroon bandana, his clothes an open cloak of coal black cloth. He wears a dirty suit underneath the cloak, cut and torn in places, although not revealing any skin because of the cloak on top. His hands hold the reins tightly, wearing two different gloves, each strange in its own way. One glove is a stark white with a golden cross outlined in the silk, the other is a jet black with a five pointed star crafted into the leather. He doesn't speak as he rides, the six shooter on his belt strange in a way of its own, the many other trinkets jangling with every step of the horse. He rides into town, lookin' for somethin' or maybe someone.
*do you have another? My brain hurts and I made it two lines*
*Fine, what kind of person do you want?*
*sorry dude. Give me your silliest/craziest*
*Nah it's good.*
The Jester is standing atop of his wagon with a smile on his mask, playing his lute.
A hooded traveller with a blindfold and walking stick seems to enjoy the music as they sit nearby.
He smiles to them, after his routine saying “Did you like the music? It took me a while to get as good as I’ve gotten now.”
"It's nice."
“It’s the best I can do.”
"I'd sing along, but..." she thinks "I don't know any of the songs"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3 Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
*nothing screams kosher like a herangon and tiefling marrying after conceiving a child.*
*no not that I mean keep it pg/pg13.*
*Damian's going to have to, his gay bestie's (theoretically) in the crowd.*
*sick*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3 Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
He smiles to them, after his routine saying “Did you like the music? It took me a while to get as good as I’ve gotten now.”
*Well this sucks. I just realized that my new character isn't actually ambitious or adventurous at this point in time. I'm going to have to give them a reason to want to interact with someone who looks very much like they're the type to hunt them down for money or clout.*
*I'll be back in a bit.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
"I mean, would you like to, uh, come with me?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
"It's nice."
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
*keep it kosher and I'll throw the rice*
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
She lights back up and nods, following after, skipping about.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*I was planning on it. I’m ready to go, you want me to describe it, because I don’t think this is my category, considering Damian is going to be late.*
*It ain’t nothin to worry about. Oh man, I really link with this character as a Texas country boi.*
“It’s the best I can do.”
"What wrong," he sets the book down on a table, turning to look at scott
Jason squirms away from that a bit but doesn't mind, "I was trying to be neat, but i kinda... got out of hand"
*no not that I mean keep it pg/pg13.*
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
*Nothing screams kosher like two of the craziness characters on the thread getting married.*
"I'd sing along, but..." she thinks "I don't know any of the songs"
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
"Writer has been loud... Khemet is whispering.." he says "I'm tired..."
"I can tell!" He huffs, looking down at the bodies "How are you going to get rid of them?'
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*sick*
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)