An Atypical RP—open

[subtle fox]

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As the title so subtly suggests, this roleplay isn't like all those other roleplays. This roleplay doesn't really have a theme to speak of. It has a plot—don't mix those two up, because the plot is important—but it won't be centered around the typical roleplay plot that never ends at an ending. Intrigued? I really hope so, because otherwise I'll be sitting here with a dead rp wondering why I decided to do this.

So, before I actually get to the plot, I need to introduce the characters. They're your very own; ready-made and already in action. As in, they're your characters, from other rps. From dead rps, running rps, new and old rps, from all fandoms and from every idea that was moderately successful. Or not at all. I'm sure we all have someone in mind; someone we wish had more time to develop, or maybe had plenty of time and we just want to meet that character on the page once more.

[subtle fox]

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There is a world, a small one. As far as anyone knows, it has no name. On it there is a small, equally unnamed continent, located north of this world’s equator. The weather there is hot during the summer, cold during winter, and rainy every other season. There are many trees, and the majority of this continent is wild, virgin wilderness. In the middle of this vast forest there is a small community. It does have a name.

It is called Home. And many consider it to be. Here, no one is born. They simply Appear in The Inn, and Disappear there, too. It’s called The Inn not because you have to pay for your room—indeed, room and board is entirely free—but because it’s where the newest visitors stay. The visitors awake on a small, comfy bed in a strange room. This room is where they sleep for the duration of their first week. Many Disappear within that first week, and it is rare to meet someone who has been here for over a few months.

Home is where you meet people from all walks of life. Everyone is different, in every way. But Home is a community. A strong community that thrives from the hard work every visitor puts into it. In spring, the fields must be prepared and planted. Summer calls for care of the food plants and livestock, and hunting parties are often organized and sent into the forest. Autumn is harvest season, and time to prepare for winter. Families form, even if they aren't connected by blood. Strong, lasting relationships are made with the knowledge that anyone may be gone in the morning.

[subtle fox]

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one All of Tess' and all site rules apply. At all times.

two Forms will be posted on the forms page, but only after they have been PMed to me and accepted. If you wish to include an example of your work, something that may be more up-to-date than the writing on your form, feel free to do so. It just isn't mandatory.

three I understand writer's block. We all get it. What doesn't happen is small posts with little information on a regular basis. Quality over quantity is a good rule to live by, but quality does not only mean grammar, spelling, and good choice of words. You need to actually have content if you're going to convey interesting, valuable information to the rest of us. I'm not going to put a line or paragraph limit down, but if I feel you're writing too little or too much, I will PM you with a gentle warning.

four Anything out of character will be posted on the discussion thread.

five I reserve the right to not accept you, and to ban you.

six Characters of all genders, sexualities, ethnicities, and species are welcome, and variety is greatly encouraged. You can make a new character, but the main idea behind this rp is to use your old favourites.

seven Every seven to ten days I will post a mini-plot in the description thread. As the rp progresses, I will be happily open to suggestions. The first few days will not have a mini-plot; rather, we will be introducing our characters to each other as they explore Home.

eight This rp doesn't need regular characters. Therefore, you do not need to stay here indefinitely. You and your character may leave at any time. You may change your character, or have more than one. Just don't roleplay the majority of Home's population. New characters can join at any point in the story. I just ask that, while you are part of this rp, you post regularly. You are the judge of how often that is, but if you haven't posted within the latest mini-plot change, your character will be treated as a 'Disappeared'.

PM me if you have any questions.

[subtle fox]

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There so we know how to spell names and not guess ages.


username : name : age : gender : form

calum, : Helena Promise Elinks : 18 : female : form

subtle fox : Benja Verhoeve : 25 : male : form

persimmon : María Mercedes Santillan : 24 : female : form

harley.quinn : Haylee Shay : 17 : female : form

dogs : Chantelle 'Mamba' Jeoff : 23 : female : form

watchdog : Davis Fen : 24 : male : form

Loch Ness : Verath Caraz : 32 : male : form

aphasic : Tatum Ace Pierce : 19 : female : form

FadedFury : Piper Ale Whitte : 18 : identifies male : form

♠ gecko ♠ : Elizabeth Elegory : 16 : female : form

[subtle fox]

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Because I forget things.

-remember to have a spot for mention Home's rules
-open!
-probably wait for more to join before starting, though
-started, stalled, hopefully up and running in the next few days

[subtle fox]

[subtle fox]

She’d been Home’s Innkeeper since the young and tender age of twelve. By now, she’d learned how to read the Inn’s creaks and groans, knew when to expect the next wave of visitors. She had cleaned and aired out the rooms, and now all she could do was wait.

┉ ┉ ┉ ┉ ┉ ┉ ┉ ┉ ┉
Name → Benja Verhoeve
Location → the Inn
Tagged → open
┉ ┉ ┉ ┉ ┉ ┉ ┉ ┉ ┉

The ground felt soft. Why was it soft? The blanket he was lying on had never managed to conceal anything more than a small pebble. Now it felt like he was lying on a bed of clouds. Benja opened his eyes, hand tightening around the knife under his blanket.

He was in a room.

On a bed.

Quickly, with reflexes born out of practice, he rolled onto his feet and backed into a wall. He held his knife in front of him as he took stock of his surroundings. It was a small room, noticeably clean. No scavengers had visited. The floors were old, wooden. The bed, other than a few rumples his hasty retreat had caused, was recently made, which was strange. His pack, thankfully, was on the floor next to a chest of drawers. There were curtains drawn over a window. A door was in the other wall.

Nothing was telling him where he was, though. Or how he got here. He walked to the window, slid the curtains open, and promptly mouthed a few profanities. There was a forest outside his window. He'd just been in a city, far from anything like this. Backing away from the window Benja swung his bag over his shoulder and—carefully, quietly—let himself out into the hallway.

With his knife brandished in front of him Benja crept down the hallway, sticking to the wall and pausing at every door. He couldn't hear anything in any of the rooms, but by the looks of it this place was a hotel of some sort. Perhaps everyone was asleep, like he had been but minutes ago. He reached a flight of stairs, and grimaced. Wooden and old, like the floors. And, like the floors, it was bound to have plenty of creaks. Leaning over the bannister an open space presented itself below. Likely a foyer. It had a wooden floor, too.

There was really only one way to go about it, unless if he wanted to find another stairway, or go out a window. He slipped his knife into its sheath at his hip, but kept his hand on it. He honestly didn't know what to expect down there.

A series of quiet creaks along the upstairs hallway made their way to the Innkeeper's ears. While her sight may be failing, her ears were as sharp and attuned to the Inn as ever. A small smile graced her wrinkled face as she readied herself to great the new visitors.

[harley.quinn]

»ＨＡＹＬＥＥ ＳＨＡＹ«
bisexual | 18 | werewolf/telekentic

•mood: Confused & Cautious
•tagged: Behind Benja
•where: The Inn's Hallways

Bright blue eyes fluttered open as the blonde awoke in a haze. Pushing herself up into a sitting position, confusion flooded the seventeen-year-old. Where am I? Was the first question to pop into her dazed head. She couldn't remember anything about how she's gotten here. The girl braced herself as she slowly moved her feet to the floor and touched them softly against the cold hard wood floor. Glancing around the barren room, she noticed a window, a door, and the bed she'd just woken in. Her eyes flicked over to the bag on the floor. It was hers. Not to mention the fact that it was sitting right along side her shoes. Slipping on her shoes, the girl peered through the curtains out the window into a large forest. Great. She was stuck some mysterious place in a forest with amnesia of how she'd gotten there.

Haylee slid her backpack onto her shoulders and slowly, cautiously, made her way toward the door. She freaked open the door slowly and took her first step out of the room. Haylee slowly peered around the corner and glanced both ways, checking for other people when she noticed a tall male further ahead of her. Creeping out of her room, as to not alert him or her presence, she followed to male down the hall. Maybe he'd have answers for her. She tightened her backpack straps and tried to move down the narrow hallway as carefully and quietly as possible, golden-blonde hair brushing her shoulders as she walked after him.

She heard the floor creaking slightly under her weight and she tried to silence it thought I worked only slightly. She followed the male in front of her for a couple minutes, wondering if he was just as confused as she or if he had answers for her. There was also danger in the following him being as he could have been the one who'd put her here and while she didn't know it, he was wielding a knife in one hand. Haylee suddenly tripped over a small piece of a board sticking up and fell face first into the hard floor, creating a loud thud, most likely alerting the man in front of her.

[.synthetica]

mercedes santillán

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m o o d;
literally what the hell
t a g g e d ;
benja, hayley
d o i n g ;
hoping she doesn't actually have to
crack a skull
┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

You can't hope to have a good day when literally everything turns out differently from how you expected it.

And the differences were obvious before she even opened her eyes - before she was awake enough to take note of anything else other than the noticeable lack of a blinding headache and sandpaper tongue. Like someone had performed a sneaky dialysis while she'd slept (not that Brookmount could claim to offer regular, non-sneaky, sanitary medical procedures) and made sure to hydrate her as if she was some wilting house plant. No, she felt better than she had in a long time, and it really threw her off. It postponed the inevitable by a long moment as she wondered just who had blessed the previous night's whiskey. And why.

But then came the inevitable gasp of shock; awareness of her surroundings hit her like a speeding train, but with less steel and more feathers and high thread count sheets. This wasn't the cluttered concrete floor of her workshop, in fact, she couldn't feel a single pebble or bolt digging into her back. This was a high quality mattress. With an equally delightful pillow to go with it. Not to mention the duvet. And the silence - it was completely, unnervingly, awfully silent and she could feel herself begin to panic. As her heart rate began to rise steadily, she kept herself utterly still and slowly, slowly opened her eyes; teeth gritted and hands clutching the covers beneath her.

That wasn't her ceiling, or her walls. The cute vintage set of drawers she could see from the corner of her eye definitely wasn't hers. In fact, as far as she could tell, the only things that belonged to her were the clothes she wore, the same ones she fell asleep in the night before. From her socks (she could feel the familiar hole over her right big toe) to her worn leather jacket (in which she was getting increasingly more uncomfortable and sweaty), she took a quick inventory and crossed herself in her thoughts. Then wriggled from side to side.

Nothing happened. She didn't know what she'd been expecting (alarm bells, perhaps), but the room was just as silent as it had been before she dared to move. So she tensed her legs and pulled herself to a sitting position, a chill running down her spine as the shifting sheets disturbed the stillness enveloping the room. Still, nothing. There was no masked murderer with a bloody knife sitting in the chair on the other side of the room. No disembodied, ominous voice sounded from an intercom. Though the decor was minimalistic, the room felt almost welcoming, and as hard as she tried, she couldn't shake that feeling.

There was a door - she could see it now, in the opposite corner to her bed. Wherever she was, she couldn't (wouldn't) stay in some comfortable cage and wait for whatever nefarious force had put her there to reveal itself. Biting her lip, she hesitated for only a second before she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and planted her feet firmly on the floor. Wooden. She could feel the gaps between the slats, and the bump of a nail under her heel. Tilting her head downwards, she saw that her boots had been neatly placed by the bed, along with her shoulder bag. What considerate kidnappers.

Boots and bag on, she stood slowly and walked the perimeter of the room, freezing in her tracks when she caught a glimpse of the outside world through the window. It was a forest, of mixed trees and thick with bright leaves. Not the forest she knew, of evergreens blackened like burnt-out matchsticks and smoldering stumps. This wasn't her home, this wasn't her state. How had they (whoever they were, whatever they wanted) managed to move her so far in one night? Frustrated, she ran a hand through her hair whilst thrusting the other into her bag and rummaging around until she found what she was looking for - a thick, steel adjustable wrench. Brandishing her weapon of choice, she stormed across to the other side of the room and threw open the door.

As soon as she stomped out of her room, all blazing, righteous indignation, she was stopped short by the scene before her. A man, with his back turned but clearly on high alert and clearly holding something in his hand (considering her train of thought she felt pretty safe guessing it was a weapon), and a girl in the midst of tripping over thin air and landing face first on the floor. It was clear which one of them was the bigger threat.

"I won't hesitate to crack your skull, and if you think I can't handle a knife in the ribs you're dead wrong." One (or both) of those statements may have been complete lies, but she felt justified considering the circumstances. Glancing between the man she'd addressed and the girl on the floor, she stepped fully out of her room and took a cautious step towards the pair, wrench gripped threateningly, as if it was a weapon she had any experience in using.

(It wasn't.)

[harley.quinn]

»ＨＡＹＬＥＥ ＳＨＡＹ«
bisexual | 18 | werewolf/telekentic

•mood: Defensive + Scared
•tagged: Benja + Mercedes
•where: The Inn's Hallways

Stomped foot steps preceded a shouted threat. The small blonde quickly pushed herself off of the floor, jumping to her feet within seconds. She whipped around, golden locks following suit, to look at the woman behind her. She was clearly much older than her, at least five years, most likely more. She had jet black hair with an intimidating look to her. Though Haylee's wolf took over her in the moment and a low wolf-like growl erupted from her throat. Haylee gave a small cough after word, as if to clear her throat. She, herself, was shocked she'd done that, placing one hand on her throat, a surprised look on her face. After a couple moments she returned to her look of defense and stared down the woman across the hall, occasionally checking over her shoulder at the man behind her, making sure he wasn't advancing on her.

She felt threatened, she was in the middle of them and so she tried to keep an eye on both of them, though the woman seemed for of a threat to her at the moment, being as the man hadn't said anything yet.

"I don't have any weapons. I mean you no harm." Haylee finally spoke, staring across the hall to the other woman. It probably wasn't her best idea to mention the fact that she had no physical items as for weapons. Not to mention the fact of her powers though, but they didn't know she could turn into a wolf, nor that she could move objects with her mind. "I'm Haylee." She said, though she still had a defensive approach to introducing herself to the two and she made a conscious effort not to stick out her hand for them to shake like she normally would.