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sylin city parliament cordially invite you to attend the second annual masquerade ball in order to stave off the dreariness of the season! refreshments will be provided, and formal attire is required. please leave your weaponry at home and dance the night away! ...however, this year not all is as it seems. it appears someone has placed a riddle on the back of the invitations. who-- or what-- could have done this, and why?
ZUGZWANG is an illustrated panfandom roleplay with a twist-- characters must either choose to give up their memories or abilities to play the chessmaster's game. with a progression system that lets you earn back what you've lost and over fifty active fandoms, the sky is the limit!
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I love my.... idiot son.... so much.... i am not good at coding
"The lil ones ain't so bad, just squish 'em, but they got some big fuckers out here. Like, this one moth-fly looking guy who will paralyze you before scrambling your brains." Easton mimed this with his free hand by winding a finger at his temple. "Or this bee with a big stinger on it's ass. Just straight up stabs you. If you survive that, they're poison too."
if i woke up, your warmth, your hand on mine and your voice too—
i managed quite a few posts today that i actually enjoyed so i'll be posting excerpts from more than one lol
I. the doctor is kind. she reminds billie, somewhat, of the old witch; a mysterious maternal aura to her. but, ah well, perhaps all those who originally wanted to heal and help feel like that.
II. the strangest thing about it was that most of them didn't act as if those years should have had an impact and billie, with her tragedy of twenty-four, didn't know what to make of it. later, she would learn that most of them had gone through much worse things in their younger years - that she had more in common with the others than she'd initially thought.
but for now, she relented that at least she was useful to them, and pretended that it didn't bother her that the only things that brought a sense of comfort and home to her now were apples and the cloak the witch had given to her. she was sure, in time, the pack would begin to feel like a home, as she assumed it did for the others.
billie just wasn't sure how long 'in time' would take.
III. the feeling she has is reminiscent of: a child's loving embarrassment when a parent goes all out in their support and is just a little bit over the top in doing so. even worse is the name she'd jokingly told them all was her real name and, although she was certain they knew it wasn't by now, it had apparently stuck.
IV. tough skin or tough luck - which one would it be for billie's opponent? which one would it be for billie herself? would the other prevail simply through being a stronger species than the werewolf, or would she fail due to her incompetency in a fight?
V. "Nikki, huh? Nice name," she says, smiling softly at him to try and placate him, like the nurse giving her her vaccine shots as a child had done. It had worked on her then, and she sure hoped it would work here and now.
Not really my most recent but it's the most notable recently.
"Where were you headed? I can accompany you there if you’d like so I can think of a way to repay you for this inconvenience.” Atlas gave a little hum, obviously showing how proud he was of himself that he was so nice.
at the brink of tears, gene snarls as an overwhelming frustration bursts within her chest and, whoosh, sets her hands and wrists completely aflame. jumping at her own spontaneous combustion, her hand jerks and the burrito-turned-fireball leaps out onto the pavement.
My character's son named Uriel, who lives with his mother, is making his sister (different dads) chicken soup because she's sick. Uriel's step-dad takes him to the pharmacy section in the grocery store to get his sister some medicine where he meets a pharmacist for the first time:
Uri gawked at the woman. His lower lip hung as he stared at her. She looked familiar. Seemed familiar… and then it hit him…
Mary Poppins had a magical syrup for colds. It’d probably be more effective than the flintstones in [chicken].
in the face of the yawning depths, where creation cracks and galaxies shatter, you hold onto a memory: the last time you were on earth, where you stand upon a ridge, looking upon a land soaked in the rays of the rising sun. you hold fast against the abyss, driven by the thought that one day, you might feel the touch of sunshine upon your form again.
Someone's gonna get into a lot of trouble, so this is from the latest post I wrote (thanks for the gut-wrenching, wizzphix bae this is so totally Les' fault):
“Did you sleep at all?” he asked him a few moments later, eyebrows crinkling together in concern. “You look dead on your feet…”
The faint color was still on his cheeks, but he was loathe to actually act on it. Despite his instincts telling him to take the other man’s hand and hold it, he knew he couldn’t—at least, not while the other also looked like an absolute wreck.
Absolute wreck indeed
she / her
you're a world away, somewhere in the crowd. in a foreign place, are you happy now?
not a recent post in the slightest, and not so much a line as it is an entire chunk, but i'm rereading old posts and i miss playing my sweet idiot agent 707. he was paired with such a sweet MC oc.
Before he knew it, she was pressed against him. Hugging him — an action that was too foreign. Too unexpected. Luciel was sure that she could hear his heart hammering in his chest, quick and unsteady, betraying the cool he tried to keep on the outside. “Eunhee, that—” Her name was soft on his lips, almost as if he were scared to even breathe it.
How could she want such a thing? Didn’t she know that he was no good? Didn’t she know that she could do better? “I want to protect you.” He couldn’t promise that he’d keep her — God had never allowed him such luck. But he did… want to keep her safe. He wanted to make sure she could go on smiling. He didn’t want her to be lonely.
He didn’t want to be lonely, either. Distance had made him cold. But she… she had a way of warming him up. Softening the edges. Perhaps…
No. He couldn’t think about it. He didn’t dare. The future was not promised, so he would not even pretend to have a wish for it.
But… Luciel could live in the moment. Just… just a little. “You don't have to be alone again,” he whispered, free arm slowly, hesitantly, coming up to wrap around her. Opposite hand laying at rest on the small of her back. She was so tiny; so delicate.
If God was as good as he believed… maybe he could keep her. Maybe… they could be happy.
If not… well. They could at least have the moment.
As long as he kept going, even if it was her sake and not his own, it was the sweetest praise. Seeing him again and letting him fill her to the brim with every bit of his adoration, then Alex could breathe just fine. She would not let her past hurt her anymore. Alex wonders if she could ever thank him enough.
If you knew anything about Gozubura Yamamoto, the words "trust me" word elicit a panic within you not unlike the panic often felt by beekeepers, parents of children at the age of three, and those that drop food around pets when said food would likely be the end for said pet.
He just needed to open his mouth, say yes, and then kiss her. Then they'd have the perfect storybook ending to their romance.
Unfortunately, this wasn't a book or a movie, this was real life. When faced with such intense emotions people rarely reacted to them how you expected them to. "Essie..." he whispered a slight tremble to his voice. Despite how badly Atticus wanted to say yes, and he really wanted to say yes, he just couldn't get it out. "Esther, I lo...." it was stuck on the tip of his tongue. The sentence trapped in the back of his throat like a bird in a cage.
There were beggars upon the streets, thieves and ne'er do wells--- he could sense the hunger, the desperation, the malice lurking within them, and it troubled him that so much of these blights could exist, that they were allowed to fester in the hearts of men.
i'm extremely mad this is from a private rp and more people can't witness the tomfoolery as it happens because i'm still laughing about this shit
seeing an all clear, raj makes his way over to arria's bedroom window. there's not much hand purchase to push the thing back open from the outside. instead he leans one elbow against the sill, cheek resting in his palm as the other hand knocks on the glass. his eyes widen, brows pressing together and upward, and mouth puckering into a pitiful frown as he catches her attention. "awwww, does poor widdle awwia need a big stwong man to hewp her out the scawy window?"