No I wouldn't write with my clone

Whichever of us is high muse takes over the writing and whichever of us is low muse does the chores and fetches sustenance so high muse can stay focused. Switch off as needed. Divide and conquer baybee

This is a sensible position.

When the two sites are very different in nature, like an animanga fandom-based high fantasy + a modern-day real life site, it makes sense to keep them being different sites. The aesthetics play into it and as well it makes the members list harder to navigate when you have member sub-populations who won't ever interact with each other.

As far as when the two sites are not very different in nature (like animanga fandom-based high fantasy + animanga original steampunk fantasy)... I suppose it would depend on how much crossover there is between the player population of the two sites. If the same oc is allowed to be played in multiple settings, go for it. If not, but enough players are on both sites that it doesn't cause confusion when trying to find people to plot with, go for it.

Can you point me to where it says this? I just did a ctrl+f in the English-language Service Master Terms of Use page for "rehost", "repost", or "edit" and couldn't find anything.

RE faceclaims: I do get attached to the fcs I choose and I prefer not to recreate the same character with different fcs, because in my mind it doesn't make sense to me to simply declare the character has a different appearance after I've been writing them for however long with a certain face in mind. but I also don't get upset about fc "sniping", I rarely if ever recycle my ocs anyway. there are so many other ideas I can make instead.

RE image crediting: also, do not use zerochan et al as a workaround if the original artist has publicly said they don't want their art reposted/edited or has deleted their art account. yeah it sucks to not be able to use the pretty art you found on google, but I'd rather be mildly upset than be an art thief.

RE site making: I don't judge people who admin multiple sites. I DO judge people who make a site, shut it down in < 1 month when it doesn't get as much traffic as they want or they "lose muse" for it or w/e, launch a new one, and then rinse and repeat the cycle ad nauseam.

One thing I've see sites try to do to solve this is by requiring the canon in question to include a summary in their ac post of things their character is doing to move site plots forward. This feels kind of "off" to me (like... assigning homework?) but I don't really have a dog in the fight as I tend not to play site canons nor write plots that involve big sweeping changes to the site. (Not that I'm opposed on principle, but I've yet to play on a site where a site plot actually manifested past the pre-plotting stage, so I prefer to keep my expectations low.)

Speaking as a member, I also prefer roster limits based on activity requirements. It makes the site feel more... "lived-in"? if I know that basically every oc has threaded out a plot at some point, as opposed to people having rosters of 10+ characters and having to guess if they're actually active vs being a concept that sounded like a good idea in theory vs practice, or just wanting to bandwagon on pretty/popular fcs. If an oc isn't working out you can always archive them to free up the slots.

100 posts on this ic milestone reached how in the unholy heck did this happen

13. no palace without its dungeon
feat. eli

---

"Do you have any idea what you've done?"

you remain silent.

"Two dead. Two innocent-- children-- dead. Now, don't get me wrong, Operative. I know that means nothing to you--

"--but perhaps this will."

you can't be hurt, that much is true. but you can be imprisoned, you can be chained.

you're forced to kneel, to bow your head in supplication. you're forced to put the handcuffs around your own wrists.

then they leave you alone in the dark, to ruminate on your failure.

by the time you see light again, you look every bit the ghost you are.

you stagger home on trembling legs ( not fly -- your wings are useless for that, as you are now ). dig a can out of the pantry, wrestle open the lid, and pour its contents cold down your aching throat. your phone holds an old voicemail - you've been fired for no-call no-showing for an entire week. scratch one reference. they'll never believe you had an excuse.

it's time to move (not on. up). to be sharper, harder, stronger, better.

but perhaps a little less reckless.

you keep your head down. you do as you're told. you even find a great new employer, who isn't terribly concerned about some of the gaps in your history.

and before you know it, fifteen years have flown by in the blink of an eye.

25. the calamity of creation
feat. eli and hemera

---

you arrive to a shattered window, holes in the walls, and blood smeared across the floor.

"Hemera, please. This is what happens when you underestimate girls."

your housemate is gasping, a bloody hand clutching a bloody forehead. "Eli-- She's crazy--"

"So you really are here. Dad."

you turn to take a good look at the intruder. your eyes that are her eyes narrow.

"My name is Satsuki," she says. "I'm your daughter--"

"Bullshit."

"It's not bullshit!"

you swing the shotgun up, but she's already dodging. your shell blasts a hole in the wall as she flings a heavy vase at your head - you dodge, and hear a distressed sigh from Hemera behind you. then she's leapt up, closing the distance, on the attack with a pistol in one hand, a knife in the other.

she is fast, fluid, furious - nothing like the graceful spars with your adopted nephew. if you didn't know any better, you could swear you'd trained her. or, at least, she was a fan of footage of you in action. ( there is no footage of you in action, you're sure. but then again, one unexpected thing has already happened today, so who can really say? )

but you're not about to lose to a cheap imitation, this interloper who dares think she can claim you as family simply because she wears your mother's face.

the next time she attacks, you predict her trajectory, and kick her into the wall.

"Where'd you hear that?" you ask, keeping the shotgun aimed on target. "Who told you that?"

"No one told me. I dug up your name from the files at the lab."

Hemera starts in with a pained grunt, but you hold up a hand. "She's not crazy."

"Eli, I know you. I know there is no way in hell you'd have done this willingly. But if you didn't--"

"Yeah. I didn't." you sigh. but you did sign yourself over to the military, and they did collect samples - who's to say they couldn't have sold them onward, to data brokers and underground researchers and so forth? "I think at the very least she's been grievously misled, but it's not... completely out of the question. There are other ways." you see him screw up his face in confusion, make a mental note to bug the Doc to tell him about the marvels of Columbian bio-engineering later.

"Satsuki, was it? Where's this lab?"

---

as you clear the building, it occurs to you that perhaps the security is as much to keep the scientists and test subjects in as it is to keep intruders out. you find them huddled under desks, barricaded in closets, as armored guards fall around you. some of them beg for their lives. others rock in place and cry silently. a brave few try attacking you, once it's clear that you're not here to liberate them.

you leave not a single one alive.

"Looks like two other labs partnered with this one," you say, as you scroll through the computer files, hastily scribble the information down onto a piece of paper.

"So what happens now?"

"I find 'em. I delete 'em from existence. And I move on."

you begin setting the charges.

---

Satsuki is talking as you make your way back to the house.

"All my life, I was told my purpose was to be a weapon. But what am I, really? Who am I, really? Do I even have a choice in what I become?"

you roll your eyes at her. "Do I look like a shrink to you?"

"Kinda busy trying to have an existential crisis here, and you're not helping, dad."

"I'm not your dad."

"Where do I even go? The lab was my only home. It wasn't much of one, to be fair. But still."

"You can stay at the house," Hemera volunteers, "until you're able to get your own place."

"No, she can't."

"Eli, she's your kid."

"No, she isn't!"

"You know what? Fine. You hate me being around so much, I'm outta here. Have a nice life."

something breaks inside you.

she's your kid.

"Listen-- Satsuki--"

"What."

you frown, eyes downward, unwilling to meet her gaze. "I'm sorry your dad couldn't live up to the fantasy you built up inside your head."

( the truth is, you're not sorry. why should you be, when none of it was your fault? but the truth is also not what she needs to hear right now. )

"The good news is, you don't need him to boss you around. I can already tell from the short time I've known you, you're strong, you're determined, you got a fine head on your shoulders, you got your whole life ahead of you. World's your oyster. Do whatever you want, really. It's what I did. And, if what you want is to go to school--" here you smirk-- "Hemera will put you through college."

"I never said that!"

"Well, are you really gonna not, mister let-me-volunteer-my-house-and-home?"

it's too easy.

he snarls. "All the damage from the fight is coming out of your next paycheck."

learning that affective empathy is just as prone to human error as cognitive empathy goes a long way toward helping me relate to the concept

22. fool's golden rule
feat. eli

---

"Please-- I swear, I'll give everything back, I'll never do it again, just please--"

you keep the gun level. "Give me one good reason."

once she realizes you're not going to shoot her on the spot, she slowly picks herself up. even before she rolls up her sleeve, you can spot the bruises through her threadbare clothing. "It's Donovan. He's my-- I mean, just because he married my mom, he thinks he can work me like one of his wage slaves, says girls don't need to go to school--" she's glaring at you, eyes cold and hard. "Ever since my mom got sick, I've had to do this. To take care of the boys. If I don't-- there's no one else."

"Donovan Hancock, the business magnate?"

she nods. "You know of him."

"Let me ask you something, girl. Suppose he were to kick the bucket, would you and your mom inherit everything?"

she blinks at the implication. your expression remains impassive, but fixed on her, as you crouch down to retrieve your wallet.

"I suppose... She is his lawful wedded wife. I don't know of anyone else."

"Good. Now, I'd like to offer you a deal." you holster the gun. "Pick my back left pocket."

she hesitates.

"C'mon. You're old hat at this by now, aren't you?"

you take a step closer to her.

her expression hardens. she walks up to you, reaches, retrieves the switchblade you were going to pawn today.

"Here's the deal. If you don't like it, you put that knife back in my pocket, walk off, and we never saw each other. But if you do... you take the knife. You take what you deserve with your own hands. And in a year, I'll be back for my share of the take."

she looks up at you. "Your share."

"Call it a finder's fee."

the blade flicks open. "What do I have to do?"

you coach her through it. the best places on a man to stab. the proper way to ransack the house to make it look like a robbery gone wrong. the most convincing way to talk to the police.

"I'll have Mom go take the boys to see her sister this weekend," she says. "And then..."

---

one year later, you're waiting in her room when she comes home from school.

"Oh, good, you people still live here. Was worried I was gonna hafta hunt you down, be a real pain in the ass."

she stiffens. "Wait. You're-- that old guy."

"I'm here for my take."

she blinks.

"You thought I weren't serious. I'm always serious."

"What do you want," she says.

"How 'bout ten percent? Ten percent seems fair, in this line of work."

she's running the numbers. "That's so much. You never said--"

"You never asked."

"I-- we need that money. Mom's finally in treatment, and my school fees are due next month. Please-- I know I owe you. What if I give you everything that's left. Just leave us alone. Please."

"How much."

"Five thousand."

"Not nearly enough."

"I'll make up the rest for you. I swear. I just need more time--"

"One year. My take. That was the deal."

she's quiet.

"You know... I bet the police would be very interested in any information that could help them solve such a prominent cold case."

"You're insane."

she's furious.

"Why would you do that? You know you'll only go down with me!"

"Maybe I will," you say. "So you gotta ask yourself, what's more important to you? Putting a bad guy behind bars? Seein' justice done?

"Or makin' sure your little brothers still have their big sister around to protect them?"

you see her eyes glance toward the bedside dresser.

"Oh-- keep the knife." you smile. "Call it a gift."

twenty minutes later, you walk out of the bank.

easiest payday you ever made.

custom title - 80 bits - the wheels are singing
custom font icon - 50 bits - pencil-and-ruler

total 130 bits

-flapper floozy is an animal crossing mc
-birb with imposter syndrome is an elder scrolls mc
-happy, helpful robot is coming for your jobs