Walk a mile in their shoes [Writing Game]

GreaterRealms

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This game is simple.

Player's interested should respond by volunteering their character(s) to be written about from other players; as if those other players where the actual player's creations. Be it a small paragraph, a few sentences, a hilarious scene, a harrowing scene, happy or sad.

The object of the game is to stretch your creative brain-pans and have fun and see how other people see your characters in a different light. Since the character's are being volunteered by their creators, there's no worry about a right or wrong here. It's all about perception and so it's very much okay not to know, understand, or be 100%. All that matters is that players try :)

If someone volunteers a character that sparks your interest, please write something!
 

Necromesh

I LIIIIIIIIVE
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I am scared to do the writing part! But it is too tempting! I'm gonna try, but in the meantime I volunteer Skid (if anyone wants to try riding that bull)!
 

The Redneck

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16
When the cigarette girl shied to the left from her smile, the drow woman chuffed her shattered laugh and felt the flagging cold of her spirits lift just a touch. Leaning against the scarred wall, gold eyes scanned the crowd in boredom.


Nothing and nothing and nothing again.


She came here sometimes to listen to the music, watch the flow of color and fabric. And eat goddamn cupcakes at will.


No one knew her here, and she meant to keep it that way. With fine kid gloves and silk thin suede covering her from neck to toe, with her mask on she might have been anyone. With the artfully crafted, bee stung lipped angel's face imposed over her own, she was anyone.


Here she could try figuring out what it was that drew people to not subjugating their peers or contemporaries. As of yet, it was beyond her.


With a snarl that bled into a sneer, Suliss slipped the mask back over her features, and began prowling the perimeter of the dance floor once more. Maybe someone would show enough weakness to need culling; her stomach was aching from the sweet.


Skid swung in through the door, sailing in with equal parts knowing confidence and actual curiosity. The music had drawn him; something that sounded like a throw back to Earth's Big Band era.


That the club had a modern take on those of that era, could have been terribad, but stopped half way there. At least they had the concept kind of right. And the music, the music they got right. The tip of his tail twitched, and the threads of his mask tightened with the wild and delighted curve of his smile.


A familiar scent in an unfamiliar place had his eye widening in amazement and unholy joy. And he was off, counter-clock wise stalking the room. Sssh, be vewy vewy quiet, he's hunting a monster. Or, another monster, depending on how you looked at it.


And there she was, oh the glorious beauty of her, hiding her light under the bushel of suede that fit like a glove (temptress!) and a simpering, vapid faced mask. With a laugh to match his smile, he took her hand and tugged her into the swirl of the dancers on the floor.


Spinning and twirling, dipping and swaying.


She snarled, reared back to use one of the many hidden weapons at her disposal when some idiot grabbed her hand. And while the snarl didn't abate much, she allowed a laugh to grate free when she realized it was Skid (this may mark the last time she could come here, too many distractions).


Lithe and lethal, she flowed with him, and against him as she butted heads (literally at least once) with him to lead. The energetic maneuvers and steps of this form of dancing served well enough to keep both of their hides whole when she tried shanking him, and his tail tried choking her out, or breaking her arm.


But when he tossed her up and spun her around like a baton, or one of those fake and utterly useless guns those girls in the color guard used, all thoughts of bloodshed fled. For the span of two point two seconds she watched the already complicated sights of color and texture blur and meld in streamers and trails.


And then, when he finally put her on her feet again, and an idiot woman with more tit than brain bumped into her, she emptied her already overladen stomach, down the front of the human.


Skid laughed, wild and no little bit malicious when Suliss showed her appreciation of the woman's garb. And was laughing still as he carefully held the drow's hair while she horked up what was ailing her.


He was going to have to add cupcake offerings to Suliss to his campaign promises.
 

GreaterRealms

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Jack Scot said:
I like the idea of this game. I am afraid to even try because I don't know the characters well enough. Looking forward to being entertained by the replies! :)

That's the point of the game! :D Stretching the brain-meats!
 

The Redneck

Member
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:doh:
Thank you Melly beans! <3


Also, Jack, that, and the brain stretching, is why I offered up the Squirrel. He's nutty, kooky, and really a failed villain. And it's there no right or wrong way to run him.
 

Jak Siv

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I'm game for ANYONE to try Jak, I wanna see how well they'd do it, likely better than me xD PS, this is awesome so far!
 

Pslyder

New Member
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I, for one, happily volunteer any and/or all of mine for use in this game. I'll have to come back for some writing a little later, though. Almost time for work.


ETA: Someone should definitely write about Kassy. :wee:
 

Craven Delights

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>.>


Guess I'll volunteer Kuori as a playable character for this game. Be interesting to see other folks take on her. Or take her on.
 

The Redneck

Member
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16
Sal


He buried the shock and hurt under seething rage. Did everything he could to keep those murderous fires stoked and burning. When he felt the burning tightness banding his chest and tightening his throat, he convinced himself it was the need for blood, the need to feed. Not the squeezing pressure of hurt and fear.

The words of his Mother whispered through his mind, yanking whimpering denials from his throat even as he recognized the truth in them. And he felt them chipping away at the careful shell he'd built up against the slings and arrows his nature, his very existence, brought about.


Walking the paths Between and Behind, it was easy enough to stuff everything back and away. To hide it from himself, while hiding from it a little longer.

But when he spun out again, slipped back through into ... some place he didn't readily recognize he couldn't any more.

Couldn't beat it back, and couldn't hold on any longer.

The scream ripped past his lips, tore out of his throat like salt on raw nerves. A thousand scalpels slicing and cutting. The sound of it filled the sky overhead and startled damn near every bird within range of its reach into the sky. Their cries twining around his to create a song terrible to hear. Horrific in its torment; beautiful in its anguish. Wild in its grief.

“You are a frightened child looking for comfort where you will find none.”

Lips twisted, peeled back from his teeth in a snarl at the silent, always present sound of her voice in his mind. In his heart.

The fae-child was terrible with words, everybody knew that. Emotions, his own emotions scared him, confused him. And the enormity of them now was enough to crush him under their weight.

In all his life he'd never loved anyone as he had (and fuck it all still did in some ways) loved Sinjin Fai. What he felt for, shared with Rei was different and the same and more and less, all at the same time.

And within the span of hours they'd, each in their own way, crushed and shattered parts of him.
With twisted truth and half-lies and deflection. With misinterpretation and projection and fear.

With eyes slicked and tears tracking unwanted, unnoticed down his cheeks, Salvador took in his surroundings. Scanning, searching, hoping.

A wild place, rocky and desolate with a wind that plucked at the fabric of his pants and plastered them against his ass and legs in turns. A bite to it that wind had, chilled teeth and nails that slapped and nipped and swirled around him mockingly. The vegetation was sparse, trees few and far between. What there was was bent and twisted, stunted and tormented by the very act of surviving in this place. Forced into unnatural shapes by the winds that either sang like school yard bullies, or howled like an enraged whore while skirling around, through, between.

Far below, down a near straight incline, was lush and verdant. Green and growing, wild and thick.

Here, no.

The ridges that lay against his spine lifted and rattled as a shiver tore through him; he fucking hated the cold. And didn't have the energy, the drive, to do a goddamn thing about it.

Just wedged himself in a notch between boulders and hugged his knees to his chest. And for a moment, maybe more, let himself be what he was.

A wounded child bound up in the flesh of a man who was both predator and monster. A heart broken man weighed down by stubborn pride and a soap bubble ego.

And while the sobs tore out of him, wracked his throat and frame and wrenched free of his heart, the whore of a wind carried the sound far and away. Kept the secret between just the two of them.
 

Delahada

New Member
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Wow.


Goddamn, Thorn.




A+++ +infinity!


Looks like I know where Sal went now, lol!


::totally using that::
 
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