Role Player Bios

[OutlawTorn]

I was going to sit back for 2 weeks and see what's what, who's who and how the cards would be dealt.

But sitting on my ass producing excuses as to why something I love/want is impossible to obtain has never been in my protocol. It doesn't sit well with me. My entire life I've proven that nothing is impossible, and you can do anything you truly want to and set your mind to.

So I had the idea to create a thread where anyone who stills knows how to write in the English language and likes stories/characters (whether you're available ATM, or not) can post a simple, yet telling bio about their tastes, preferences, and details as a player/writer for optimizing the process of finding compatible co-writers to approach for projects. 1x1's will probably be what begins the process of saving your RP scene, if anything can.

The important thing is honesty when answering. If you're going to say, "Nothing bothers me about any character, and I love every type of story/genre! ^_^" You're a liar and you've defeated the entire purpose of this thread (to identify tastes for compatibility).

Gender:

Age:

Nation/TZ: /

Most Active: (Time Of Day, Aprox.)

Experience:

Favored Genres:

Ill-favored Genres:

What I Like in a Story:

What I Avoid in a Story:

What I Like in a Character:

What I Avoid in a Character:

Writing Sample(s):

A bit about yours truly:


Gender: Male

Age: 29 (4/16/85)

Nation/TZ: Canada/Atlantic

Most Active: Evenings/Sunday

Experience: RP: Nov. 2003-Present, Creating Worlds, Characters and Stories: Roughly 1995-Present

Favored Genres: Realistic, Fantasy, SciFi, Hybrid Fantasy, Apocalyptic (Well Balanced, with my specialties).

Ill-favored Genres: Teen, Highschool, generally anything to do with any sort of school(s), Western/Historic (nless incredibly well-done and researched).

What I Like in a Story: Intellect*, Complexity*, Good Dialog*, Plot Structure and Mechanics*, Mystery, War, Plot Twists, Character Development, Purpose/Meaning*, Impact & Statement*, some Drama, some Action, some Romance, some Humor. (But it depends on the nature of the story)

What I Avoid in a Story: Simplicity, Stereotypes, Choppy or Cheesy Dialog, Cheesy, cliche/over-the-top Characters. I pretty much avoid the opposite of what I like in an RP, but it all varies based on the Story at hand. (I'm pretty open-minded and versatile)

What I Like in a Character: Weakness/Flaws* (I have no use for perfect, infallible characters. They speak directly to the character of the writer; their insecurity and vulnerability. The ability to show weakness and depict failure is a sign of maturity and wisdom. But there are times when a character who is physically, politically, or socially infallible is needed. That's usually a villain, or a hero post-culmination of sorts. But those characters still have to have their flaws and weaknesses. And no, being too evil, or too introverted and not giving a **** about doing what's right, DO NOT count), Depth & Complexity, History & Origin, Blurring that fine line between Face & Heel; Good & Evil*.

What I Avoid in a Character: I do have some things I avoid. Bad, unnatural, awkward dialog. I understand some people just ARE awkward, that's perfectly fine and when playing one, I AM awkward. I also understand that awkward moments just happen, but not all the time. When Bob asks Stan a direct question, Cindy and Mark wouldn't continue the conversation, forcing moments to elapse before Stan replies... RP is a delicate form of writing, a delicate form of art. The scene structure of your plot can either be phenomenal, and prove for an engrossing, addictive read (at the cost of taking time, making a few time & post-based sacrifices, working from a selfless angle, rather than imposing your character upon a story every chance you get), or it can be a choppy, sloppy, cumbersome, awkward read. It's up to the collective writers. John and Sue have been running a series of scenes together. They've just wrapped one up, but are dying to start this new one. But wait, Eric and Cindy just started a really intense, important scene which is bouncing back and forth nicely. John and Sue are faced with a choice. Force ahead and interrupt Eric and Cindy's scene by power-posting THEIR scene, or respect not JUST Eric and Cindy, but the best interest of the plot and story. Selfish writers make my brain hurt.

Writing Sample(s):
Azure Dawn (Fantasy)

SPOILER!!:

The porch of this rustic old house was huge. It was made of a smooth, rich mahogany. Polished mostly, except the years of people coming and going were clearly visible in the worn tracks littered over its surface. White-washed was the house, but everything else was all wood. Wooden shutters on the windows, a few wooden benches and other wooden bric-a-brac scattered around its wide, sweeping porch. It should have made it look shabby, but it didn't. It suited the place. The large white manor sat perched on top of a gently sloping hill. The soft grasses of the hill gave way to a clearing at the bottom, where it met the thick, dark woods. The woods were a beautiful, yet eerie place. Always still, always silent, until the wind blew, whistling through the branches and whisking pretty coloured leaves up into colourful spires that reached for the clouds, free for a moment, only to float back down to earth, pretty and fragile once more.

Alexa was alone on the porch, her fingers absently tracing some shallow marks in the wooden railing. Perhaps wood worms had burrowed their way through the tree that was used to make this railing, but this piece had been sanded down so that only a few shallow trenches remained. She scratched at the grooves absently, but her gaze never wavered. Sitting, all alone in the field, was Raius. Her eyes bored holes into his back, as if trying to see through the flesh and bone and into his soul. He hadn't moved an inch, and he hadn't made a sound the entire time she had been standing here.

The dark tendrils of her hair played over her face and twirled into the air, lifted, pushed and played with by the fingers of a soft breeze that wound its way through the woods, pushing itself forward across the porch and into the field, the grass blowing slightly flat where the wind's footsteps trod. Raius still didn't move. Alexa sighed, a horrible wrenching sensation tugged at her stomach and at her heart. Though the place is so beautiful, there is a certain sense of melancholy, nay, grief and sorrow that hangs over the entire scene at this point. The same sensation weighs heavily on her soul, twisting and turning it so that she felt ill. Alexa blinked a few times, wiped insistently at her eyes, attempting to stop the tears. It worked, but only for a moment. Though her gaze has never left Raius' back, for a moment, she wasn't looking. When her eyes focused again, Alex felt a surge of mixed emotions rush through her. A tear finally escaped her eye, as she stared at the man that she was so fond of, and her heart broke at the memory of all of the pain and loss that he has had to endure since he has come to Tareed. Though he would not speak of it, it was clear to feel the air of anger and sadness that he carried about him, no matter how he tried to suppress it.

She reached up and flicked the lone, betraying tear away, and sniffed, absently fiddling with her cape, still watching Raius.

A door opens behind Alexa, and she is suddenly brought back to reality, hard. She sniffs and fights to settle her face into a neutral look of serene composure and seriousness, and when she felt her face looked thus, she shot a quick glance of her shoulder.

It was Yaiger, and he was horribly wounded.

His left arm was wrapped tightly and held against his chest by a soft, white sling. The same shoulder was wrapped up well, too, but it hadn't managed to stop the bleeding completely. Blood had seeped through the gauze and was staining the wrapping, a sharp contrast of red on white. It would have been pretty, had it not been blood. He was leaning to the right, putting all of his weight on the crutch that sat tucked beneath his right armpit. He was using the crutch to take the weight off his injured right leg, but it still looked uncomfortable and painful. It was strapped tightly to a splint, and more blood was seeping through the soft white gauze.

His long black hair is sweaty and messed around from a tough healing process, and it's also the hottest time of the year. He is pale from blood loss, and generally looks to be moments away from his grave. His black pants are sticking to his legs, one leg rolled up because it couldn't fit over the splint and the bandages. His feet are bare and a tad dirty. They even had a bit of blood on them.

Alexa's gaze once again returns to the silent and still Raius in the field. She felt Yaiger step up to one side of her, slightly at her back, but he said nothing.

After a few moments, she trusted herself enough to speak without sobbing. "How's he doing?" she asks him. She pressed her lips tightly together. Her voice, even to her own ears, sounded so heavy, so worn and so sorrowful. She felt like she was going to cry again.

Yaiger doesn't answer for some time. She couldn't be sure, but if she had a look at his face, she was sure he would be fighting back tears, if not crying. "He is strong," he finally says. "He will not leave us with out a fight." Silence for a few moments more. "He is in good hands," Yaiger finishes lamely, desperately trying to believe his own words.

Alexa tried to give him a smile, but it didn't come. She knew he didn't believe what he was saying. She knew he was lying. She took a deep, slow breath, and some of the sadness she has been feeling exhales with that breath, but frustration begins to creep in to fill the gaps. "I just don't know what to do anymore Yaiger. This war will see us all in our graves." She stopped speaking suddenly, trying to quell the waves of emotion welling up within her.

She felt Yaiger turn beside her, facing her now, preparing to go back into the house. Alex gets the feeling that he is trying to say something, anything, but the words simply evade him and he returns back into the house, leaving a heavy sigh in his wake. Alexa sighed also. Yaiger knew what she was saying was right. They would all be dead long before this war was over.

Her eyes have never left the still and silent form of Raius in the field.

A Legacy Written In Blood (Realistic/Horror)

SPOILER!!:

I prefer to go out at night, when the sun has rested after a long day of polishing the earth. The light is inherently forgiving in nature. It has a way of shining a false beauty over even the ugliest of situations. It gives cosmetic value to an otherwise worthless piece of merchandise. The light is the great deceiver, not the darkness. When the shadows close in around us and threaten to remind us of who we are, it's in the light we seek comfort and salvation.

I walk the streets of this forsaken city, past the dregs, junkies and whores. I see and hear everything that happens in these streets, this concrete Gomorrah.

I see a man, a spineless worm, unemployed and hooked on crack cocaine. He collects welfare checks from his brother's mailbox and lives with his girlfriend and her two small children. He spends every penny chasing a high he'll never satisfy and watches her kids suffer, neglected and deprived of a mother and childhood.

His eyes are fixed upon a young woman, a prostitute. Her long blonde hair, slim figure and schoolgirl face earn her the money she needs to care for the product of a trick gone horribly wrong. The uninvited seed of a low-life rapist. A foreign invader who left upon her both a gift and a curse. A bitter sweet signature left upon her world in the form of a pure, and life-long maternal love, marred by the memory of her violator every time she looks him in the eyes.

The pipe in his left coat pocket is still warm, and his mind races, the pane of glass between himself and reality slightly cracked and smudged. Only two things rest on his feeble, one-track mind. That perfect backside and the sexual release it will offer him, and the $600 which rests in her purse beside a loaded .45. Nothing good happens tonight, nothing that can be summed up beautifully, or packaged neatly by a deep moral observation.*

People hide within the light, hoping, praying that all of their superficial bullshit is in any way true, or in any way will protect them from the cruel reality of the human condition... evil. Sin, and the capacity to commit sinful acts of violence, greed, or deviance dwell within us all. The road to heaven is paved with corpses... so watch your step.

—Preacher

Again, this isn't just another thread. This is me asking everyone here if you care about creative writing here at TFF.

If you do, then you'll take 10-15 minutes out of your day, or tomorrow, or the next day to fill out this Bio, just to show that yes, you do care.

[Rowan]

Gender: Male

Age: 24

Nation/TZ: Australia

Most Active: During the day.

Experience: None for RP, but I used to practice descriptive writing/scenario.

Favored Genres: Fantasy/SciFi/apocolyptic

Ill-favored Genres: nothing, really.

What I Like in a Story: complex characters/Mature themes/Philisophical ideas/Romance/Comradery

What I Avoid in a Story:Cheese.

What I Like in a Character:Morals/Intellect/emotions

What I Avoid in a Character:Cheese

Writing Sample(s):
Lets go back to that place. You know the place that I’m talking about? The place where we all sat down together and talked about how it would look when night fell. you said the sky would spark up, bursting with thousands of glittering waves of light ,like glowing snakes dancing in the night sky. The moon would reflect off the water and give the atmosphere a dim, silver radiance. Every secret hidden by the veil of sunshine, would be revealed at night. The water would become completely still, as if time itself had stopped. We would sit there and bask in what looked like a marriage between the sky and the earth. The spheres of light with soft blue tails would drift over our heads, and move slowly back toward the forest, emitting a trail of waves and lines. We’d try to grab them with our hands only to have them slip through our fingers; for one could never hold onto something so pure. Then we’d talk and joke until the sun come out, and we would do it all over again in the nights to follow.
Thats what you said, all those years ago…

Now I sit here alone, Waiting for night to fall. As the darkness creeps toward me from the horizon, I smile.
It was just as she described.

But all I can think about is the journey ahead of me, and time is running short. Theres not a lot of comfort left in this view. The smell of death has corrupted my senses. I’ts time to bid farewell to this place. A place I’ll never be able to return to. A place of beauty and a place of destruction. A place in which everyone gave their life to protect. Now its my turn to do the same. If only I had the ability to express how I feel when I see that scar in the sky.

[OutlawTorn]

Thank you for the support Rowan.

Love your sample. I think you and I have great potential to work together.

[Heartless Angel]

Gender: Male

Age: 23

Nation/TZ: USA Central

Most Active: Weekday Evenings and Sunday, Saturdays I'm either around all day or not at all.

Experience: RPing 2006 to present

Favored Genres: Fantasy, SciFi, Apocalyptic, Mystery, Survival Horror

Ill-favored Genres: Modern realistic, noncombat.

What I Like in a Story: Well established background, rules of the world, history, mythology, etc... I like to know the fantasy world as well as I know this one. Combat, complex combat, tactical moves, long drawn out fights. Plot twists, character development, especially when development leads to radical changes, betrayals, changing of allegiances, going insane etc. Light humor, maybe just a touch of romance, but not if it becomes a central focus of a story.

What I Avoid in a Story: Mushy, limited detail, poor planning or execution of the world environment, lack of structure, too MUCH detail (for ****'s sake I don't want to read six pages of you reminiscing about your cat in the middle of a combat sequence, there's useful story enriching detail, and then there's irrelevant crap)

What I Like in a Character: Mental problems. A twinge of insanity makes a character a lot more interesting. Good history, backstory, some bad events in their history, very rarely have a seen a character with a boring history become interesting, though there are exceptions to that. Amusing shticks. Interesting abilities where applicable.

What I Avoid in a Character: My standards for characters have become sadly low after my time administrating a forum with a lot of new writers, and the RPs were going downhill too fast to turn new blood away. It seriously got to the point where I was happy as long as nobody was trying to submit a Jedi or Klingon Warlord to a medieval setting. If I had a nickel for every ****ing vampire I've had to turn down from a ****ing realistic historical setting or wizards from sci fi... Generally if a character doesn't make me want to reach through the monitor and strangle the writer, I'm okay with it. I've learned to put up with a lot of stupid shit. I'm hoping it will be less... necessary here.

Writing Sample:

SPOILER!!:

(The forum I used to RP on no longer exists, and I lost all copies of solo writing, which is rare for me to begin with, some time ago. Only RPs I've done around here have died young, this is far from my best, but my selections were limited)

Once the others had begun talking about moving, he stepped off to the side andbegan to stretch, acting as though he was preparing himself for the journey. While excorcising, he made an effort to observe his new companions while intentionally raising suspicion, but just a little.

He stretched his right arm across his chest, and wrapped his other arm around it, then did the same with his left as the professor among them spoke. He was obviously at the top of this relatively short chain of command, but he didn't seem sure of himself. Perhaps he'd never been in a position of like this before, or perhaps he just wasn't an effective leader. It could be advantageous to try to get closer to the man if circumstance permitted before he was inclined to give up the first of his false identities.

He raised his right arm high, then bent it behind his back, reaching around his lower back with his left, locking his fingers together when the two hands met at the middle of his back, he then switched arms. Lex glanced over at the quiet, more serious looking boy when his stretch had him facing appropriately. He looked to the professor, likely noticing the same weaknesses in their leader that he himself had just pondered. There was something else... confusion? He was thinking intently about something, and the way he looked at the Wila girl seemed to indicate that it had something to do with her... Could the two be connected somehow? Perhaps this boy was worth paying more attention to; there was much more to him than any of the others here.

He reached down and touched his toes before proceeding to stretch his calves. The boy spoke up, a complaint of course, Lex expected as much from one so young in this situation. He was breathing heavily, even wheezing a bit, he was obviously exhausted.

He stood up, straightened his outfit, and began turning towards the group just in time to notice the girl from Wila regaining a small part of her strength. She attempted to stand, though she was clearly disoriented, she was looking around as thought she expected to see someone, or something in particular there. The boy reacted, he seemed concerned for the girl's well being. What delicious irony that he'd look at her now like some helpless child, when not but a few hours ago, she looked at him as moving target practice. If Riian only knew who this girl was... but revealing this was not his place. Not yet.

He leaned up against a tree as the discussions of moving began once more. Eventually the professor spoke to Lex, asking him if he was ready, interrupting his own question with an introduction. Lex took his weight off of the tree and walked towards the man. "Name's... Zachariah, call me Zack.", he said with a slight delay, only as long as he needed to choose the name. He shook the professors hand before answering the question, "And yeah, I'm good to go.", he said.

The group began getting ready to move, slowly, but surely. Riian and the girl were still plainly exhausted, and the other two weren't exactly brimming with energy either, though something else seemed to be wrong with Marcellus. Lex began to walk ahead of the group, not that he knew where they were going. Out of nowhere, Marcellus screamed, and gripped his head as though he was in terrible pain, the professor and the other two immediately directed their attention towards the boy, though the professor's eyes showed something different than the concern of the others... he was frightened. It didn't take long for Lex to notice what he was frightened by... an unnatural wind swirled gently around him, a wind that carried the scent of a mana nearly as vile as his own. This boy was interesting indeed... but for now Lex thought better to pretend not to notice anything unusual.

He turned around as soon as Marcellus cried out. "What the ****?", he said aloud, looking at the now fallen boy. He ran back towards the group, feigning concern.