Blood_Wolffe

I like the over-the-top Australian accent. As well as Cockney. Some of the accents we have here in the US are atrocious.

Valley
Many southern accents
New Englander
North Dakota region
Brooklyn when it's thick

All those just grate my biscuit!

But the worst for me is from my region of Northern New York. "Yawnt to?" somehow means, "Do you want to?"

I don't know, you just have to hear it or be grateful that you haven't.

*Blatantly pushes Rebel in*

IT PUTS THE LOTION ON IT'S SKIN OR ELSE IT GETS THE HOSE AGAIN!

I mean... oops. Didn't see you there Rebel.

*Dumps oodles of baby crocodiles down the pit*

They're particularly bite-y today.

Unyieldingly horrific. I could hardly breathe reading it. That's what I imagine hell would be like. Excellent writing.

Why is my passive-aggressive insult alarm ringing for some of these posts, mostly Pious'?

We get it the whole server/forum thing you are so crazy about. We get why that could cause problems.

So just put "closed" or "semi-closed" in the title of your thread. Get into details like, "No NA players allowed" in the OOC comments at the very beginning of what you type.

There doesn't need to be Union in the tag for the title. There certainly doesn't need to Virtue in the title tags because we allow anyone who wants to RP.

You've said countless times that there is inevitable conflict and we are bound to have issues. The only issue I've had so far is the one you're creating. A little comment here or there that implies that your way is better and you don't want NA players in your EU thread.

If that's the case just say it! The solution has already been presented. You recapping again and again what the differences are is only telling us what we already know and has been coming off as pretentious.

((Semi-Closed RP)) = invite only. Ask for an invite.
((Closed RP)) = invite only.

Labels are already established.

The only problem I can see happening is Euro threads won't allow NA players in because they can't participate in the Union server events. Some Euro players won't participate in NA threads because there are no server events.

We're (North American server RPers) just spread too thin for server events. So we treat the forum like cowman said. Much less hassle. Much less stress. Much more creative breathing room. We still have plenty of character development too, thank you very much for that little comment!

I'm excited to have our forums merge, eager to read your writings, and hope to see some of you join our ongoing threads.

Actually, yes it does mean exactly that.

We have winters here in Arizona too. It gets down to 60 sometimes!

I know what you're thinking. Yes it is amazing that people can survive such low temperatures.

I'm looking forward to seeing different writing styles, and the potential for RP hooligans.

I'm not looking forward to reading in metric, or u's in my colors. Or having to read aluminum as ah-loo-minnie-um.

[ QUOTE ]
No, we use cubits and fathoms.

[/ QUOTE ]

My car gets 20 ramrods to the hog's head and that's the way I like it!

My first thought is, make it a big rig. Something that can't be pushed aside and could actually block a lot of lanes if it jack-knifed. Something that Fred's RV couldn't push aside, but he wants to try anyway.

Further, if it was a suspension bridge and the truck was pushed against some cables, stressing them out, the police officer would certainly not want it roughly beaten out of the way, as it could snap some suspension cables and create a much larger danger.

[ QUOTE ]
“Please, you can call me Valerie,” The name slid off her tongue without the slightest hint of restraint; it wasn’t her true name…names carried a lot of power and she didn’t want hers falling into the wrong hands. In Paris, she was Charlotte, so in the Isles she’ll be Valerie, “I just arrived from Paris…I just finished my season tour of that lovely country. Have you ever been there, Mr..?”

[/ QUOTE ]

Walter felt uneasy suddenly. Even if she wasn't one of Them, it was dangerous to give out his name. He shouldn't have even said his real first name.

"Just Walter please," he said blushing because he knew it was rude.

He wasn't able to think of one on the spot. Not with her. She had him on his heels from first sight until the indefinite future. The way she chose her words was strange. But she did say she wasn't from here. Her clothes were strange too. Beautiful, but strange.

"Paris?" He said, "Never been there. I'd like to someday though."

As they came closer the bar, Ruby's came into view. He realized he had no idea whether or not he had money. He scratched at the tussled black hair on his head and reached into his pocket. There was a crumpled ten dollar bill. Even by 1989 standards that was pushing it for a meal for three at a bar.

"I can buy... our meal," he said having no idea what time it was, "I think."

What had happened? Did he black out for twenty years? No. He was still young. Did he imagine that it had been 1989 before? Was he insane? Where did the clothes come from?

He walked on a nervous course through St. Martial. He got strange looks and long, cold stares from people. This place wasn't friendly.

[ QUOTE ]
“You appear to be a charming fellow, would you mind helping a stranger? I’ve just arrived as you can see, and I really don’t know much about this land.” Which was a lie, she had been to the Rogue Isles countless times in her life, “Perhaps you could assist me, and tell me where I could find lodgings or a meal?” Helheim extended her hand forward in greeting, “You’re welcome to join me.”

[/ QUOTE ]

"Oh," Walter said trying to discreetly shake the fork off his sleeve. Finally it fell, and scraped on the ground toward him until he took a step away from it.

"Hello," he shook her hand, "My name is Walter."

Each word was spoken as if he were just discovering it. She seemed strange. A lot must have happened since 1989.

"Food and lodging? Follow me," he said.

He didn't know where there was, but he didn't lie the way he said it. This way he wasn't alone. She seemed nice. She didn't seem like Them. However, as the walk progressed he felt uneasy. It seemed luck was not on his side as they strode past everything but food and lodging.

Finally they arrived at a place. Chateau Rouge. A sign said a bar was in the back. Walter sighed. Across the street in a vacant lot a beaten up, run-down bus sat with no tires on the ground. On it someone had spraypainted, "New Bus."

"Well, here we are... What is your name?" he asked, sounding less shell-shocked this time, "And where are you from if you don't mind me asking?"

"Why don't you tell us about your dream?"

Doctor Goldstein was old and had a permanent frown on his face. Walter didn't want to talk to him. Sitting on the other side of a long table of men in white coats didn't help. They looked at him and took notes. Looked at him and took notes. Their scribbling echoed off the waxed linoleum floors and itched inside his ears. Two orderlies stood on either side of Walter.

"Why am I in restraints? I've been good lately. No incidents in a week. You promised you would remove the restraints."

"Telling us about your dream would be a good show of faith. Why don't we start with that?"

"You've heard it before."

"Again please."

Walter sighed, "I'm on a space shuttle. We're on a mission to go as far away from Earth as possible. We go millions and millions of light-years away. We go-"

"There are other people on the spaceship? Who else?" an old, unattractive woman with thick glasses interrupted.

Walter glared at her, "Are you aware that it's rude to interrupt? It doesn't matter who. I can't see their faces. Even if I did I don't remember. Also, it's a space shuttle, not a spaceship. I'm not crazy," he said as he fidgeted in his straps.

"Anyway, we go as far as we can from Earth. We are right before the point of no return. Not one inch more or else we can't go back home. I get in a spacesuit and go out on a line. Further, further, further. I can barely see the shuttle, but I'm approaching something," Walter began breathing a little harder. He looked anywhere else but at the people.

Doctor Goldstein was impatient, "Continue Walter."

He looked at the row of Doctors, "The line breaks. I'm drifting away from them. I call for help, but they tell me there is nothing they can do. The shuttle turns and goes away. They never even say goodbye. Then it's just me. So far away. So far away that Earth does not exist to me and I do not exist to Earth. I'm in deep space. Alone. Then I start drifting toward something. It's so huge! I can't see the ends of it. Fire, a... a..."

"A sea of fire?" another doctor asked.

Walter glared at him, then at Doctor Goldstein for allowing these people to continue to interrupt, "No. All the seas combined would be less than a drop compared to this. A galaxy of fire. I'm drifting toward it, but it doesn't burn yet. I can see flames the size of planets swirl into each other. I keep going toward it. Earth... home... distant memories. All that exists is me and it. Everything else is void. I'm so scared but I'm not. I don't know what it is but I do."

"What is it?" Doctor Goldstein asked, scribbling notes along with the others.

"The singularity," he whispered, eyes wide with wonder as he tried to picture it again.

More scribbling, "What do you think that means Walter?"

Walter wasn't listening, "Then all of a sudden, coronas a billion miles long blast into me. The energy is so intense! It's frightening. My small body isn't even an atom compared to it. It shouldn't be able to contain this much power."

"Walter. What do you think it means?"

"I know what it means. It sent me back from the future. Something bad happened. Something that wasn't supposed to. I have to stop it."

"What happened? Why does this... singularity care what happens to something as small as us?"

"I don't know. I was born after the world was gone. I don't know why it cares. Or if it really does."

"You were born in 1965 Walter. We have records. It's 1989 now."

"No. They must have known I came back. Made false records."

"They?"

"The ones who destroyed the world. They are planning now. Soon it will be too late. This is why you must remove my restraints. This is why you must let me go. Do you see?"

"I see Walter," Goldstein said without looking up from his scribblings, "I am going to recommend your prescription be increased to eight-hundred milligrams, and-"

"No! No, you can't! I won't let you! The Singularity won't let you!" Walter screamed as he struggled against his restraints, "All your writings and all your paper won't save you from righteous wrath! You'll all burn up in the corona of its furious gaze!"

The orderlies injected him with a syringe, and soon he went limp. He was then taken out of the room.

A mildly powered telekinetic born in Paragon City. His record indicated he'd spent a lot of his young life in hospitals for dementia. After an outburst in Atlas Park using his powers, he had been quickly detained and sent to the Ziggursky Correctional facility in the Psychological Ward. A complex fantasy created in order to escape from reality. Complete with delusions of being special. Nothing he hadn't seen before. Doctor Goldstein closed the file on Walter Gibbs.

He scribbled more notes, and as he dotted an i a deep boom resonated. Goldstein looked around. Alarms began blaring.

One of the orderlies who'd dragged Walter out came running back in, "They're escaping!"

----

Walter woke up. Looking around, he didn't know where he was. Or when. A discarded metal fork was sticking to him. When he tried to peel it off, it stuck to his hand, like he was magnetic. His clothing was unfamiliar. A pyramid loomed above him.

He got up and grabbed a passerby, "Where am I? Am I in Egypt!?"

The shocked man stammered, "S- St. Martial."

"What? What year?"

"... Huh?"

"What year!?"

"2009."

He let the man go and stood shocked. Then he headed off in a random direction.

((Written with DeviousMe))

The Château Rouge was cleaner, and had more consistent maintenance than what Jenkins was used to. He'd also had to clean himself up to get the job sitting in the lobby. The pay was better, so he swallowed that pill and carried his luggage to St. Martial.

At ground level there was a bar called Ruby's on one side of the building, the lobby on the other. Stepping into the lobby, he wouldn't have even known there was a bar at all if he hadn't come from the opposite side. Good insulation. There was also air conditioning. He was going to like this place. To the right, there were vague postings for jobs and phone numbers to call. At the header of some of the listings were the words, "Scarlet Society." He'd heard of them. They contracted out jobs from people that didn't want to get their hands dirty. Or sometimes those that did and just wanted help along for the ride.

"You're my replacement?" A young man said.

"Yeah. There a problem?" Jenkins replied.

The young man stared for a moment, "No. I guess not. Let me show you how things work."

He told him the rate for each type of apartment, which there were many. How to buzz an apartment. How to sign people in and so on.

"A lot of people come and do... recruiting here. It's best to not interfere with it," the young man said.

"I don't plan to."

"It's also good practice to not ask a lot of questions."

"I'm not a curious fellow," Jenkins said.

"Well," the young man said, "That's it I guess. Good luck."

"Thanks," Jenkins said to the man's back as he walked quickly out the door.

He looked around, and sighed, twiddling his fingers as he waited for the first person to walk through the door.

((Welcome to the Chateau Rouge. All villain types welcome. From the down on their luck, to the masterminds with volcano bases and private armies. Get an apartment cheap, post/get a job through the Scarlet Society, or socialize at Ruby's. The standard RP rules apply. Do not destroy the building. Do not god mode. If your character can kill gods and hurl planets, they don't need any help from us mortal types, and don't hijack other peoples' concepts and characters without their permission. Basically, stick to common courtesy: if you don't want something done to you, don't do it to others.

A few suggestions also apply. Do not bring in a villain who is unlikeable and will not cooperate with anyone. Conversely, this is a villain thread, so careful if you bring in an anti-hero. Villains don't tend to get along well with either of these character types.))

If you weren't dead already I'd kill you.

What are we going to call the bar? List of ideas...

Dirty Duck (in game)
Red Crow (Thanks Rotten)
The Merc (name of a bar in downtown Phoenix)
Red Martial
Chilli's
Red Saint
Red Rouge
Red Rouge Scarlet
The Violated Sheep (Thanks for that idea Rebel)
Red Red Red Red
The Stagger Inn
The Alibi

As you can see, most of them have a theme of RED. Some are random creations. And some are jokes, just to be clear.


Oh also, *Throws red paint cans at everyone*

I never even saw a reason to rp it. If you belong to an rp sg that spans two servers I could see it maybe. It seems on the same level as rping clicking your CoH desktop icon or turning on your computer, or upgrading your graphics card.

I look forward to it.

I recommend installments. Easier to digest for the reader. Do it in word first of course. As soon as you post you will know exactly what you did wrong, so it gives you more time to look and edit.

You also get compliments, which I always love. They can help urge you to go on, give good advice, or give you an idea.

It could be different for everyone else, but for me it is one word at a time. When you are stuck, the best thing to do is write anyway, no matter how slowly or how bad it turns out. It will get easier and better and you can always revise.

The hardest part is starting. Every single time. After that, you will be lucky if you can keep up with yourself.

What makes a love story good is what makes any story good. Likeable characters, interesting plot, good pacing, etc.

That's the unsatisfying version of my answer but it is true. Hopefully this is more insightful...

So you usually explore two themes. The love story and the plot. This can make it either a powerful story that moves hearts of stone or it can be as shallow as a summer action flick spewed out by the Hollywood factory. The difference is in the connection. I feel that if the love story is connected to the main plot, then they are metaphors for each other, and thus are much more powerful. Now this can be a trap too. Anime falls into it a lot in my opinion. If you make it too obvious, such as the world is being destroyed by the lack of love and there are two characters swooning for each other, then the audience will be hit over the head with it and think it's gaudy.

Also, the more the plot affects the subplot and vice versa the better. It has to do so in a realistic way though. One can't arbitrarily affect the other. That's bad too. Romeo and Juliet is the best example of this.

Tie your themes together. Make your plots affect each other in some way. It sounds simple, but it is not, and it is what seperates an essay from a story.

As for stories just about love being too syrupy, I don't think so. There just has to be conflict there. Not necessarily between the couple, it could be between them and what seperates them as well. Or both.

I also have a few opinions on what shows love the best as well. My big ones are dedication, loyalty, and sacrifice. Not necessarily loyalty as in not having an affair, although that is a must in my book. Not necessarily sacrifice as in taking a bullet either. Giving up something you want/need to give someone what they want/need is a sign of love to me.

Character driven or plot driven? Both. Stories that need macguffins to move their characters are bad. I'm fine with characters driving a story, as long as they go somewhere with it. Ones that don't are so boring I feel rage when I read/watch them. I like the middle ground.

The best example of love I have seen in a movie was Crash. The mexican man loved his daughter, and you could really tell. It wasn't romantic like you are going for, but it was intense to watch. It was a good example of a character driven movie too.

Make your characters likeable. Many romances fail to stay in one character's head. Don't do that. Stick to one perspective. The other is the object of desire, just make sure they are likeable and have personality too. Make the reader want to be with them.

But all this advice is moot if you worry too much. Relax, find a story that you want to tell (or have it find you) and tell it.