Scout's Posts (4)

Roleplaying Vocab||The Role player's Cup of Tea

These are my definitions and what I know so. Not perfect, but decent. To start off we will just cover this: roleplaying means to play out a role. Role players here do that with writing. All the terms covered are used often in the roleplaying community. One's with ** will have their own blog.

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Admin/Moderator/Curator/Leader/Members**-

These are all the people that make up a community.

The first four are titles given to those who run the site.

Aesthetic**-

An aesthetic is something that is beautiful. Most people have an aesthetic theme, which, for example, means they might only have pictures and text in a certain font and color, because it looks nice.

AFK/BRB-

Two terms that means a roleplayer is not available at that moment.

Blog(s)-

Often a written article telling a story or something else that the writer wants to share.

Canon-

An official part to a character or story.

Canon Characters**-

Characters taken from a show, book or ect. But not created by yourself.

CSS/Html**-

The coding behind the customization of someone's profile.

Discussions-

Always OOC, often a place to discuss about plots or roleplaying.

Dungeon Master (DM)-

Someone who runs an event.

Events-

Often an open group roleplay that was plotted out before OR something that is taking place on the site, such as a contest.

Faceclaim(s)**-

A person that you use as a reference to how your character looks.

Fanfic-

A story written about a show, book, actor, etc. but was not canon and created by a fan.

Fandoms-

A community of fans.

Forums-

By definition, a place where ideas can be exchanged.

God Modding**-

When a roleplayer their character do something to another role player's with out giving them a chance to prevent it.

Hiautus-

When a writer takes a break from writing.In Character (IC)**-Serious roleplaying, often canon.Lemons-Fanfic with sexual scenes.

Literacy/illiteracy**

-How well someone writes.

Muse-

Someone's inspiration.

Original Characters (OC)**-

A character you made.

Out of Character(OOC)-

Not canonly roleplaying, or roleplaying at all.

Over Powered (OP)**-

Very self explanatory

Plots-

The storyline set out for a roleplayPrivate Messages (PMs)-Again. Self explanatory

Profiles/Bios**-

Often found at your page, a place to introduce your character.

Smut**-

Writing about sex.

Starters-

The first post of a roleplay.

Threads-

A roleplay.

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Have any thoughts/concerns or what ever, comment them! I'll update this if there is anything I need to add or fix.

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The Roleplayer's Cup of Tea

I'll be introducing the Roleplayer's Cup of Tea; which is basically a guide to roleplaying.

It will be a series of blogs that will cover the basics such as

-Respect

-Literacy and Grammar

-Genres

And a bit of extra things such as...

-Roleplaying

Terminology

-Aesthetics

-A good OC

-Playing a canon character

-Shipping!

So, that's it. It will be a constant work in progress! And if you have any suggestions, things you want to see in this or what ever, comment or message me!

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If you spot any bugs or bad links, or anything like that, just PM me, and I'll update it!

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Remember.... the path you choose might never lead to what it says it leads to...

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I stood against the wooden door frame, peering in around the living room. A coffee table, and a few cats, a living room couch that's had more ass on it then I will ever. My parents would hate this place. My father would criticize Doctor Jamerson's skills as a doctor because of how unsanitary his little home was. My mother would probably be trying to grind up against him, even though Jamerson is fifty, and is a widower. Honestly, I liked his home. It was nice, and outside was this beautiful willow tree, with a key shape carved at it's base.

"Hey, do you want some water? I know climbing trees in the summer can be really tough work! And you have to stay hydrated." His voice startled me, and I turned around with a grateful smile. "Sure!"

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Poppy's hands clawed at the soft ground. Water was coughed up as she scrambled out of the pool and looked around her. Confusion muddled her thoughts, as she tried to remember how she got to this bleak and seemingly abandoned suburban neighborhood. When she looked down, she saw blood dripping from her elbows, knees, the back of her neck and the sockets of her arms and legs. Then screams bubbled up from her throat. There were no particular words, but there was her sister's name that echoed up into the grey-blue sky. Time blurred, and what seemed to be hours passed. There wasn't a single soul around to help her. The blood didn't stop flowing, and once Poppy realized that there was no pain, her confusion only increased. Where was she? Slowly, the teenager headed over to open the back screen door of the house, and realized it was open. Taking a gentle step into the home, she looked around. "Hello? Is anyone... there?" No one replied. She started to panic again, and ran to the front yard, picking up a bike that was there. She rode down the nameless streets, seeing that each home looked exactly like the next home. For a while, she stopped riding, and went door to door, knocking. No one everanswered. The sky never seemed to change color, and when Poppy searched for the sun with narrowed green eyes, she could never spot the sun or moon. A feeling crawled over her skin, and she went to check the pockets of her bloody jeans. Her phone! Her fingers stumbled over the buttons, and she scrolled through her contacts.

"No service? Damn." She could still see her last messages.

To see the choice click on the [x] 

Pierce | "Hey, I was wondering if you still wanted..." [x]

Rose | "Thanks for the outifts, ttyl sis!..." [x]

Dad | "Hey, you're late for dinner, and your mother..." [x]

Mom | "I'm sorry. I should have told..." [x]

After reading them all, Poppy shakes a little, dropping the i-phone on the ground. "Breathe." What kind of stuff had she been involved in? What kind of family had she had? Where were they now? She couldn't remember any of them, but the word WEEPER pops up in her memory, and she remembers...

A shaggy black dog, who seems like it's starving stands by a car accident. I freeze, getting chills running up my arms. It's making this awful noise, a god awful noise. "Mom...?" She sees it too. As mayor of the town, she never gets pale, but here she is, as pale as our last name- Snow.  Lies always come out through terrible things like this. "Mom? You..." She always tells me that the things I see and hear are only in my head.

But I know she sees them too. I know she sees the spirits.

Poppy takes a shaky breath in. She remembers her mother. Some of her mother-only fragments of memories. Her mother's strict, rare and uneven laugh. How she could stand in a mirror, and make herself look twenty years younger. The arguments and yelling that her mother would start at the dinner table. She also remembers the weepers. Just like the omen of death, her mother had piercing eyes, that almost seemed black, but like Poppy, had dark hair and skin. "Mom... What did I do?" Poppy mumbles into the ever going wind. "What did you do?" She also thinks about the name Pierce. Obviously, who ever Pierce was, Poppy wronged him too. And Rose? Her twin sister? Where was she know? Poppy sighs, and tucks the phone into her back pocket. She looks up at the bleak sky, before looking back in front of her. There is suddenly a horizon, and at the horizon, is a tree line! Something new! But Poppy has yet to look in the houses... and her phone is buzzing.

Check Phone: [x]
Go Into Tree Line: [x]
Check the house: [x]

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The Boy Who Cried Wolf

Image result for werewolf tumblr

Jacob William was an ordinary ten year old child. His parents, his teachers, and his friends from baseball practice would say that Jacob William was almost perfect. Pop-the-p-when-you-say-it, perfect. He got gold stars and home runs, he got girls pinching him, he had his mom and he had his dad. Of course, this was before the William parents found his drawings. A black and red monster sprawled across the back of his crinkled old math home work (which also had a gold star on it). When they questioned him about it, he said he got it from a youtube video, and his parents just chuckled.

But the drawings kept popping up. In the back of his sock drawers, and on top of his desk, behind his bed. They were incredibly easy to find, because his room was freakishly neat. When they questioned him again, he snarled in anger at them. He stomped his feet. He threw a tantrum, like he was seven years younger then he was. His parents got more and more concerned. Home wasn't the only place that his violence stretched out to though.

After school, during practice, he had missed a swing. The poor pitcher felt the cold metal of Jacob's bat in a matter of seconds. Before that, his gold stars dropped to frowny stickers and fat, red Fs and the girls on the playground stopped their teasing pinching, too scared to get close to Jacob the Terrible. His parents took him out of school after that, enrolled him in therapy, and stuck to homeschooling. The question bugged everyone who cared for Jacob- what turned this kid into a monster? 

The answer walked by his window every full moon, her fur bristling. She wasn't black, but rather a silvery reddish color, with a large twisted maw.

The first night he saw it, he shivered and shook, while fear made him want to stay in bed, curiosity drove him to follow the humanoid beast. It's growling large form bulged with anger, dark cracking claws swiping at near bye trees, engraving it's mark in the dark bark.Jacob let goosebumps run wild on his skin, watching it go into the treeline of the forest that he walked by every day after practice. Curiosity and a sinking, twisting feeling grew in his stomach, but like his army father, he would march right on!

Fog rolled in, making it hard to keep track of the beast, save for it's large, ever there growl. Jacob was extra careful to not step on any branches or dry leaves while he followed it. It wasn't until a raven's caw that Jacob stumbled back. Then, the monster turned it's head. Jacob's tiny heart pounded in his chest like a dying jack rabbit escaping the grasp of a predator. "M-M-MOMMY!" The she werewolf let out a roar, getting right up in his face, before slowly closing her jaws and staring at him with haunting red eyes.

He had peed himself.

She held her large head steady, one of her front clawed hands hanging onto a bending oak tree, her hot breath breathing right into his face. After shaking for a moment, Jacob ran. He ran home, not screaming, thinking that the monster he had just seen was in his head. Yeah. In his head. He climbed in through his window, shaking out of his pajama pants and underwear, before switching into clean clothes. His head was swarmed with thoughts going a hundred miles per hours. His thoughts remained on that one monster he had seen. Grabbing his crayons, he drew out what he remembered. The black of the night, the red of her eyes, and her ugly frame. This set the stage for at least once a month every year. There were twelve drawings in total. At the end of the year, he told his therapist what he saw every full moon. She thought it was just his over active imagination. 

"You know what?"

"What?"

"I'll go into the woods with you..."

Some how that suggestion had worked. After a short argument, it was decided the therapist would take him into the woods, be with him, and show him he was safe. There was no monster, it was just nightmares. He wasn't crazy. He was fine. It was just an overactive imagination, and that was that. Jacob William was just an ordinary ten year old child.

He was also the only witness to see a child's therapist murdered. 

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