so let's wing it [AN ADV. EXPERIMENTAL REQUEST]

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so let's wing it.
and now for something completely different.

∞

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this is the idea.

I'm bored.  Like, really bored.  Like, so fucking bored I could shoot myself
in the face.  I could shoot someone else in the face.  But I won't.  Instead,
I'll pitch this idea into cyberspace and hope I get a response from someone competent
enough to actually help me reach my unrealistic expectations.  However, I'm asking
for someone who can motivate me to reply.  Who pushes me to go beyond my
ability as a writer and storyteller so that I can actually improve because of them.
Someone who'll collaborate with me outside of the roleplay, and has some sense of
visual taste---because this roleplay isn't going to be just text.  If you think you fit into
this category, stick around.

Posts aren't going to be just posts.  I want the thread we end up using to resemble
a scrapbook, more then anything.  There'll be pictures, drawings, links to music or
videos...you name it.  I want us to get inside our character's heads.  Although actual
action will be written in third person, there are chances through the character's thought
processes, mental notes, actual notes or recollections where you're allowed to fall into
first person.  Get into their heads. 

The plot itself isn't really there.  Why?  Because we're winging it.  The only thing
we'll know prior is the setting, and even then, we don't have to know that.  We'll know
little to nothing about each other's characters before the roleplay starts---and we won't
know the genre.  Just focus on creating your character.  For all the other player knows,
they could be a wizard or a fucking space cadet.  This kind of roleplay should be
filled with surprises, that way, it stays interesting.  No relationships should be
thought out in advance.  The characters are meeting for the first time.
We know as much about the other as they do.  Just keepin' it real, man.

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have some inspiration.


settings.

places picked prior to roleplay

New York City, Boston, Chicago, San Francisco, Los Angeles, London, Bristol,
Glasgow, Sydney, Honolulu, Paris, Venice, Florence, suburbia, past, present,
future, steampunk, cyberpunk

a diner late at night, an old bookstore in the city, borders/barnes & noble, an airport
terminal, a bar in an airport, an airplane, a bus stop, a bus, a petstore, a park, starbucks,
the beach, the tidepools, a skatepark, an office building, the lobby of a hotel, a hotel room,
the pool, an alleyway, an elevator, a stairway, a class, the cafeteria of a highschool, the nurse's
office, an empty classroom, hallways of a school, dorms in a boarding school, school grounds,
an ice cream parlor, an art gallery, a movie theatre, on a train, at a train station, waiting
for the train in the subway, the subway train, line for a pay phone, line for anything else,
and more...


things you keep to yourself

Harry Potter, His Dark Materials, Constantine, Digimon, Vampires, Werewolves,
Animorphs, Jumper, Push, Angels/Demons, Aliens, sci-fi, fantasy and more...


film.

atmospheres to (attempt) to mimic

Rocket Science, Moulin Rouge!, Across the Universe, Wristcutters: A Lovestory,
(500) Days of Summer, Trainspotting, Garden State, Skins, The Inbetweeners,
Juno, The Breakfast Club, The Cell, Elephant, Paranoid Park, Neverwas, Kamikaze
Girls, Henry Poole Is Here, American Beauty, The Beach, Nick & Norah's Infinite
Playlist, Stand By Me, Waitress.

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our cast.

pick a character you'd like to play.
other play-bys are allowed,
however, if you want any chance of
attraction between characters--
I'm very picky about how people
look.  I'm also shallow, so
personality doesn't always do it.



girls.






boys.

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sample

Here's a sample of my writing, as well as the length
I'm expecting.  Keep it around here and we'll get along
just fine.

There was a moth.
It was fluttering around the light bulb that somehow managed to peek through the stacks of books and papers that were piled, mile high, on the desk’s surface.  There was no lampshade to obscure the bulb, though none was needed, since it was obviously very close to it’s end—barely emitting enough light to read by.  Nevertheless, the small amount that was emitted managed to attract the tiny creature, which was now throwing itself tirelessly against the glassy surface of the object.

“Quit it.”

A hand suddenly swept foreword, swatting the bug aside and causing it to careen off into some darkened corner of the room.  It didn’t matter whether it was alive or dead—what did matter was the fact that it was gone now, and not casting frantic shadows against the small ring of light that pooled out against the ever-growing piles.  God, she really needed to find those bills.

Long, boney fingers swept through a mass of tangled hair, most of which was pulled back into some sloppy, ponytail-bun hybrid.  Bobby-pins were jammed in between strands to hold the mess back, but the attempt was in vain, seeing as golden tresses still managed to fall in front of her face.  Icy blue irises peered from behind thick lashes and sharp, thin eyes—outlined with smudges of liner and purple circles, which all but screamed ‘insomniac!’.  A splash of freckles ran across a pointed nose, slowly fading as it reached the beginnings of her cheekbones.  Thin lips were peeled back into an almost permanent smirk, an unlit cigarette dangling between them, lifting and falling while she debated whether or not it was worth the energy to light it.

With an exasperated sigh, she began to rummage through her jacket pockets before jamming her fingers into the sides of her jeans, frowning when a lighter was not produced.  Pulling her legs onto the chair, she formed an almost feral, crouching position—leaning foreword so she could push the assortment of papers aside in her desperate search for fire.  It wasn’t until half of her belongings were scattered across the floor that she found the tiny, hot-pink object.  And low and behold, when she tried to produce a flame, she realized that it was completely out.

“Hell…”

Extracting the stick from her mouth, she jammed it in between her index and forefinger, tapping the end against her knee lightly.  She took a moment to examine the large tear that had formed in the jeans, creating a hole that was the exact same size as her kneecap.  The pad of her thumb ran carefully over the skin and bone, eyebrows furrowing.  She really wanted a smoke.

Her attention was momentarily diverted as a soft shuffling noise came from the back of the room, causing her to whirl around in the chair almost immediately.  For the briefest of moments, her heart began to rise in pace and she could feel the beginnings of an adrenaline rush—but it all faded just as abruptly when she discovered the source of the noise.  “God dammit, Harry,” she sneered out loud, crawling over the arm of the chair to land with a muffled ‘thud’ against the carpeted floors.  Bare toes curled against the shag as her eyes searched the shadows that coated half of the office—finally landing on a tiny creature huddled in between a box labeled ‘fine china’ and something that resembled a hooka.  In a few strides (she was quite a leggy individual), she had crossed the entirety of the room, and had swept the shivering animal up into her arms.  Large ears were flattened against its circular body, beady eyes glowering up at it’s owner.

“Don’t be like that,” she scolded lightly, giving the animal an affectionate squeeze.  “Can’t let you go around eatin’ away all the merchandise…We’re already behind in the bills as it is.”  Oh, right, bills.  She had to get on that. 

The mere thought of having to return to her desk caused her nose to wrinkle in disgust, and she jammed the useless cigarette back into her mouth.  What a dreary night.  She was stuck at the store, in the backroom, desperately shifting through her mountains of paperwork in order to catch up on things long due.  There was only the slightest chance that she’d make it home that night, though, staying inside proved to be a much more pleasant option.  It was pouring (again).  When was the last time they’d seen the sun?  Felt like ages ago.

"I think..." The woman began slowly, her attention diverting back towards the rabbit clutched tightly to her chest.  "...I think I'm going to make some tea."  Ah yes, procrastination at it's best.  It was a talent Madeline Harper had perfected over the years.

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「セツナレンサ」


OPEN.