Writing Desk & Keyboard [Private]

/ By SnowJin [+Watch]

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[center [b [size20 [#008080 [font "Georgia" My roleplay-related drafts, musings, ideas.]]]]]
[center [size11 [#68838B If you see something that inspires the writing itch in you, please have the courtesy to notify and discuss your plan/intentions with me first before using it for a roleplay of your own- or even better, we could look at collaborating on something together. I would be flattered that you are interested in my ideas, but I would not take kindly to magpie-like habits.]]]


[center [size13 [#33A1C9 “We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.” ― Anaïs Nin]]]

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Roleplay Responses

[#3D59AB “It is time again, my children. The leaves have turned gold and auburn once more, and some of us must venture out into the human world for a matter most vital to our survival.”] The old witch cast her one good eye over the gathering of women, the silver lines in her red hair gleaming. The knowing smile she gave them creased the scar on her right cheek, lending a wickedness to her tone. [#3D59AB “‘This year, it’ll be Calliope and Niera’s turn to visit that dear little neighbouring town. And we’ll hopefully be looking at two new babes to add to our coven by spring. They’ll head out tomorrow evening, so gather around then for blessings.”] The gathering of women giggled, some sighing enviously - clearly remembering some good times mingling with the humans. [r “Bring us back some good food,”] a black-haired witch shouted to the chosen pair. [r “And some good-looking enchanted men if you have any left to spare,”] said another.

With her little speech done, Mother Yari waved her hand towards the base of the dining tree, where steaming bowls of stew awaited. Niera curved a smile at her blood mother as they walked towards dinner. The young witch’s hands settled on her abdomen. [b “I suppose it has been fifty years since Valir came into this world,”] she reminisced, [b “My firstborn warlock boy.”]

[#3D59AB “Yes, I remember little Valir when he came out bawling with chestnut brown hair.”] Mother Yari sighed. [#3D59AB “Such a pity it was not a daughter. Imagine if we had [i three] red-haired witches in our coven. Our magic would know no bounds, we could carry out feats our ancestors passed down to us in legends.”] The old witch rubbed her scarred cheek thoughtfully. [#3D59AB “Tell me, how is Yari these days? Still exploring the human world?”] Despite her oft-voiced disappointment that Valir had not turned out to be another witch, Mother Yari held a soft-spot for her grandson.

This time it was Niera’s turn to sigh, her gold-flecked eyes glinting with a hint of weariness. [b “Yes, he’s just done sailing the seas with pirates and sea monsters. Now he’s off to search for some ‘majestic dragon’ up on the Old Mountains on the East Continent. Magic weakens as our distance grows, so he’s not been very good at keeping me up to date with his adventures.”] Her wild boy, now a fully-grown warlock, was hard to get ahold of. Barely a teen at the age of 50, Valir made full use of his natural ability to blend in with humans. His chestnut brown hair, human-coloured skin, rounded ears and charming smile made it easy to pass as one of them. Only his gold-flecked eyes - similar to his mother’s - hinted at something more than human.
  SnowJin / 3d 2h 20m 32s
[font "Century Gothic" She wandered the forest, bare feet trailing through brown leaves on the earth floor. Wet crackling noises accompanied shallow icy breaths, an action made out of habit more than for survival. This is due to the fact that Hikari was now a spirit, no longer human, but not long dead. Or had she been dead a while? Her movements ceased, and those blue-tinged eyes sharpened for a moment, in an effort to remember.]

[font "Century Gothic" A female voice echoed in her mind, one that felt...familiar. Then it spoke more strongly, and Hikari felt like it was calling her from deep within the forest. She shuffled towards it, frost spreading on the barks of trees around her as she went. What was this...feeling?]

[font "Century Gothic" [b [#473C8B "W...warm."]] Her voice croaked. First attempt to speak. She had forgotten about speech, her world had been silent for so long. The word brought an image of a ball of light, glowing from the center of a large tree. She could not see the end of its branches, as they spread out in all directions, looming over her. The ice maiden moved closer, pulling the sleeves of her kimono closer. She had done this in an effort to get warm - an action that would have made her feel warmer when she was alive. The dark material crackled, bits of ice falling off. Now, the act gave her no comfort. Mother, the giant tree that had made itself known to the poor spirit, seemed to give off waves of warmth and love.]

[font "Century Gothic" Hikari then noticed there were creatures around her, mostly spirits. She blinked in surprise. She had been so focused on getting closer to the source of the voice that she had not noticed the gathering of all sorts of beings, beings she was certain she had never seen when she was alive. The creatures looked at her with curiosity, some with pity. A circle formed around her. A creature with a wolf's head shook his head, [b "Lost soul."]]

[font "Century Gothic" Another one asked her, [b "Where do you stand? Do you stand with Mother?"]]

[font "Century Gothic" Hikari blinked. [i [b "Please, my children,"]] Mother's voice had echoed.]
[font "Century Gothic" [b [#473C8B "I...Yes,"]] she breathed, sending frost into the eyebrows of the wolf-head.]

[i A paltry attempt to get back into writing.]
  SnowJin / 2y 164d 9h 43m 54s
[b [u Japanese Names]]

Mizuki - Beautiful Moon.
Momoe - A hundred blessings.
Moriko - Forest child.
Natsuko - summer child.
Ran - Lily.
Rei - Bell, Nothing, Spirit.
Ren - Water lily.
Rin - Cold, dignified.
Shiori- Poem, Weave.
Suzu - Bell.
Takara - Treasure.
Tamiko - Child of the people.
Teruko - Shining child.
Tsukiko - Moon child.
  SnowJin / 2y 221d 11h 29m 53s
#473C8B [#473C8B Slateblue 4.]
#191970 [#191970 Midnight blue.]
#3D59AB [#3D59AB Cobalt. I don't quite know how to pronounce this.]

#A2B5CD [#A2B5CD Alright, supposed to be studying.]
[#104E8B Damn, I skipped lunch today.]
[#00C78C I think I'm going to die. And I think I should be drunk. And I think it will be a]
[#2E8B57 goddamn]
[#808069 Waste of a broken child.]

[#EE9A00 [b Why can't I be a warm, loving color?]]

[#00688B [b Just breathing here.]] [#00688B
[#68838B [b Distressed. I think that was the word.]] [#68838B
[#008080 [b Whose brains hurt more?]] [#008080
[#CD3700 [b Danger in the dark.]] [#CD3700
[#8B2323 [b Makes me think of burning bricks.]] [#8B2323
[#545454 [b Too endless.]] [#545454
  SnowJin / 2y 221d 11h 33m 13s
[i [b There were witches in this land. Of the most potent magic. They held the world's evolution in their hands - or so they would have liked to think. If one could ignore the dragons and sorcerors, maybe. But these women kept themselves away in swamps. Coming out occasionally only to mate with some unsuspecting male, to continue the line of existence.]]
[center [b So catch one, to fulfill your dreams.]] [center [b Catch one, to heal a hurt,]] [center [b bring back a memory,]] [center [b revive an opportunity lost in time.]]
[b [i But you know these witches would never willingly be bound. You know these witches were never yours to control. The secret to catching a witch? Well, you're about to find out.]]
  SnowJin / 2y 221d 11h 34m 45s
[i I am dying.]

[i Reaching out across the dream-fabric that separates our world, I brush your thoughts. Stirring dreams that slip past reality's grasp, forming memories. They are false.]
[i But you think it real.]

[i Child, you think it real. Ah, beautiful innocence. I hope, at least, that my existence leaves an imprint somewhere - even if on you, human youngling that may never know my world! It is enough.]

[i Years past, and I am still dying.]
[i It is amusing, how slow we die. Death is a far away nightmare, softly stepping closer with each passing moment. It blankets it's echoes so well, that we are quite at ease until its shadow stands right beide the window.]

[i Child, do you still remember my name? My colour, branches and iris? The song of my soul, and words that would open up my vast world to your untainted eyes?]
[i But you are a child no longer.]

[i And now, as I look sadly through the veil, I wish to draw you into these dreams instead, to draw you away from that corrupted world into mine - to enrage the gods and initiate chaos.]

[i I want to show you beauty, at the consequence of my life.]

[center [b Wide Eyes.]]
  SnowJin / 3y 3d 5h 38m 58s
#473C8B [#473C8B Slateblue 4.]
#191970 [#191970 Midnight blue.]
#3D59AB [#3D59AB Cobalt. I don't quite know how to pronounce this.]

#A2B5CD [#A2B5CD Alright, supposed to be studying.]
[#104E8B Damn, I skipped lunch today.]
[#00C78C I think I'm going to die. And I think I should be drunk. And I think it will be a]
[#2E8B57 goddamn]
[#808069 Waste of a broken child.]

[#EE9A00 [b Why can't I be a warm, loving color?]]
  SnowJin / 3y 3d 5h 41m 14s
[b Bio for Fairylights.]
Or what I've got so far, anyways. XD

Name:
Age: [i When you died, of course. Or at least appearance, if your character is not meant to remember his/her age.]
Gender:
Bio:
Type: [i Type of 'ghost'. Was gonna call it Rank, but it doesn't seem to fit.]
Others: [i Anything else you want to add on here. Like a possible token your character already has, or some oddity that the others should be aware of, like a habit or a fav phrase. Maybe even a trigger.]
  SnowJin / 3y 3d 6h 25m 51s
[center [pic http://i1210.photobucket.com/albums/cc406/haylee_angelaiine/bokeh.png]] [center [font "Juice ITC" [size20 The Lights.]]]
Its what they see - lights that wink in and out of sight. Mostly at night. First worried, then curious as they realize its something only they can see..yet it is not a condition in any books you can find. Pay too much attention, bring it to the attention of someone who doesn't know anything about these lights - and they disappear. Some paranoid ones have gone for checkups. The doctors found nothing.
Half of them expected [i that] to happen.

A little fed-up, they follow the lights. Sometimes it leads them to odd places, and they find a piece of jewellery, something that didn't fit into the puzzle of the abandoned hospital, mansion, school hall. What are these tokens you pick up?
And every time you picked up something..
It triggered a big event. Be it a competition, a show of love from a person you thought never really valued you, snow coming early - [i are these tokens good luck charms, or signs?]
They feel like tickets. Tickets to a world..
You receive a fragment of a piece of paper one day, that clears a few things up, muddles the rest of you, and burns the curiosity in your minds.

Somewhere in the shadows, I am watching.
Are you about to begin your journey then, my heart's desire?
For so long I've thrown clues at you, hoping - ah, why aren't you more..impulsive?
The world sings to you - its laws stop me from reaching you directly - and I've waited for so long. Come..come..to my world..
I've been waiting.
  SnowJin / 3y 3d 6h 27m 19s
The sounds of screaming exhiliration, shouts of laughter had long faded from the rusty skeletons of the carnival. It had once been famous, at the height of its sparkling splendour - years ago.
Now torn pieces of shimmery paper blew ragtag through the concrete legs of a ride, over the broken porcelain head of a horse, trailing gently against the mythical carvings that marked the House of Horror..Dancing, dancing.

And when the sun pulled the last dregs of distorted shadows down into the edge of the land, the moon rose to fix its mournful glare over the chipped, rusty gates that mocked its own name with wheezy, creaky laughter.

[center [b Welcome to Fairylights' Carnival]]

But the night does not stay silent for long. First there are glimpses of [i something] moving across the empty flat ground. Then the smell of warm, golden popcorn wafts towards the air. Wisps soon drift from little corners - from inside the control box of the Winzy Whirly, from a cracked, dotted mirror in the Maze of Twisting Reflections, and even one from our familiar, trademark Mad Hatter's Cup.

Wisps soon fill out, forming identifiable shapes - a hand, long drifting hair, knobbly knees and beefy arms. Humanoid shapes.

Welcome to our favourite haunting.

In the moonlight, we appear shimmery, like the winking lights of fireflies, except more stable, like a glow-worm. Those of us who shine the most, are the ones filled with Essence - memories, emotions, basically, what you call being 'human'. The ones that don't shine at all..mostly don't stay long. They are the ones that have lost everything - how they died, what their names are, who they called family, if they even had family. And those in this state mostly disappear after a week or two. If you stay, you'd be better off gone, in my opinion. You'll be nothing but a drooling, empty shell. Sometimes, I see a patch of hope or memory in one or two of these poor souls, but then the light disappears soon after, most of the time, because its hard for them to keep track of anything anymore.

All of us shiny souls are what we commonly refer to as Soul-Shattered. Shortened to SoulS. Somehow, we've gotten stuck in this abandoned piece of crap, and we spend most of our wandering nights wondering How, Why, and What. Though, of course, the Questions soon lose their importance, and we spend the rest of the night annoying the hell out of each other.
Our main goal is to [b remember.]
So somehow, a system of sorts has been constructed.
Every year, arrivals of new Soul-Shattered are scattered throughout the months. We don't get many, but when we do, most of us who are still sane explain the rules, and try to intergrate these newbies into our endless fun ride.

Its like this:
When you first arrive, you are assessed by the Gatekeepers - these are the ones who have the most Essence among us. They're easily identifiable - they're the ones that glow the most.
Gatekeepers will then put you into categories, and these are: Glow-Worm, Sane, Scattered, and Retard. Glow-Worm's the best, of course. You'd be a potential Gatekeeper. Sane are second after that. Your glow is healthy, but you can't remember everything that happened in your life - most of the time, its how you died. Scattered are worse off, as you can probably guess by now. These people have potholes in their memory lane - forgotten relatives, place of residence, how they died, their age, what school they attended, their favourite color.
But better a Scattered than a [b Mumbler]. Mumblers [s Retards] have forgotten everything except one or two things. I've never seen a Retard with more than five bits of things to distinguish himself or herself from the rest of the mass of people. Sometimes its a name, sometimes its a smell. Depends. Retards don't speak much. Some of them have forgotten how to speak. How to listen or understand others. Basic interaction skills. But they learn again, through intense care from some of the more important Glow-Worms or Sane ones. Those of us who care enough, anyways.

No one ever starts out as a Shell. Though you'll find that Retards are the ones most likely to drift into this state far quicker than the rest of us. But yeah. All of us fear turning into a mindless Shell. If you think too much about it though, it'll consume you quicker than quicksand. Best to keep thinking about your past life, even though its past. Of course, new memories can be created. But somehow most of us have come to the conclusion that holding on to our memories of when we were alive will get us out of here quicker. 'Cause it helps answer the Questions, you see.
So, main thing to remember here: Don't think too much about becoming a Shell.

Once put into your respectable categories - [i yeah, really respectable. I think a fifteen year old bookworm came up with these names] - you get paired up with someone else. The Glow-Worms never end up with another Glow-Worm. You get paired up with a Scattered or Retard. Why? Because we believe in community love. [i Hahahha.]
Sanes can be paired up with any of these categories. Cuz you don't need lots of maintenance or help, and you can help Retards and Shattered. Sane-Sane pairings are common enough though.
Shattered - always with a Glow-Worm or Sane. Though if we don't happen to have a healthy number of either of these categories, you could be paired up with a Retard. Good luck with remembering. Desperation helps.
Wrecked - Never never, even when we have a starved amount of Glow-Worms or Sanes, are these paired up with another of their kind. A Shell is depressing, even if they disappear after a while. Those who are still around will remember. And we're not [i all] that selfish as to leave you to your pathetic drooling and frustrated attempts to remember. Mostly paired with Glow-Worms, though some get the Sanes. Being a Wrecked means you get special attention - from Gatekeepers, mostly.
Shells - These are mostly left alone. It takes a [i whole] lot of dedication and twenty-four-seven interaction for a few months to bring back anything when SoulS are this far gone. But some try. Some fail, and become Shells themselves from all the distraught they pile onto themselves. Most of us are just disgusted and afraid, to be honest. No one wants to be a Shell, and it feels like a very infectious disease.

Gatekeepers - Though these Glow-Worms are already paired up with another SoulS, they have extra duties. And better privileges, of course. These are the ones that give special attention to Wreckeds, and occasionally, Shells. They try to help with the remembering, sometimes giving them a tour round the carnival to see if it jolts any memory, random stuff. Everything ranging from anything can come into play here - martial arts, how to play the guitar, how to break your guitar quietly, how to sneak out of the house, origami, cooking, dancing, maths, phobias, animals..
Anything to jolt a memory.
Gatekeepers are also a sort of authorative figure. Though you don't govern us, to be honest. Assessing newbies has pretty much got your hands full, and rules like don't kill, don't lie, don't steal is pretty much useless here. Senior Gatekeepers are seen as one with most experience and knowledge though, so it could be said that they are looked up to.

Tokens.
These are items that SoulS brought over with them - things that [i died] with them, I think. A piece of ribbon, a book, a clock, one stinky sock - you name it, I think we've seen it. One lucky chap brought a flute with him, and gosh, wouldn't you know the amount of owls he attracted.
If you have a token, you will hold on to your memory and sanity a whole lot longer than those who don't. I'll say this - most of us [i do] have tokens. But you can misplace it, lose it, or destroy it - just as easily as you could break your favourite pen, forget where you put your watch, or leave your car keys in a coffee shop. And its funny -[i not really]- how many SoulS do that.

Its all starting to sound like a game, yeah?
But reality is, we're all forced to play this game for a long time. Its like being thrown into a video game without knowing which keys make you move, the rules, or what happens if you meet a pokemon.
Its not as morbid as I make it sound though. You're not completely alone, for one. And the rides work for us. There's an endless supply of popcorn and hotdogs. Some tidbits for the health nuts.
  SnowJin / 3y 3d 6h 31m 45s
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