Looking for a literate RP-er

[Scintilla]

I've been on this site for a while now--with a huuuge hiatus in the middle of it--and I have to say, I've had a lot of pretty satisfying RPs and still have a few. On hindsight, most of those RPs didn't really last too long. In other cases, there were RPs wherein I liked the idea and certain RPers but never seemed to get the RP the way I wanted it to be. So, now I guess I'll venture into 1x1 RPs.


RPNation has definitely helped me improve my writing too. Because of this, I really want to partner up with someone who has literacy that's better than mine since seeing really long, sensible posts challenges me to reply with something that would be at par with the reply that had been given me. This means that I've decided to sort of screen who I'll be RP-ing with since I want to have a challenge. I want to RP with someone who'll make my jawdrop before making my head spin as I think of a reply that'd be at par with his/hers.


So, if anyone's interested and would like to start plotting and what not, I hope you don't mind posting a sample of your average reply length.


And just in case you're wondering, here's one of my best replies:

Spoiler

Sylvia forced herself to at least look a little less idiotic during the parade. She smiled and tried making eye contact while deep inside, she was cursing herself and some other people for not being in a better district. The careers had it all, she thought--the skill, the charm, good stylists. She was starting to realize that the Games, well... They weren't simply games. As she looked at the ignorant faces of Capitol people rejoicing at the thought of having kids battle it out to the death, she started to have a sudden paradigm shift that made her look at the other side of things. As a little girl, she loved the thought of Capitol and how flamboyant and rich everything there was. But now that she was finally in it, she realized that it was full of cold, mostly stupid people.


Having survived the parade was a great relief to her. As soon as they got back to their apartment, she dashed into the shower, making sure she got rid of every inch of the horrid looking green paint on her. Then, once she was sure that she was clear of any green paint, she sighed in relief and changed into a pale pink dress they'd set for her. She pulled her hair out of its awkwardly messy bun and started to brush it until it felt softer and a bit more familiar against the back of her neck and her shoulders. She put on the beribboned ballet flats that they'd chosen that matched her dress before looking at herself in the mirror. She sighed in relief seeing that the green skin was gone and she could finally see her Capitol-polished, pale freckled skin again. She looked like herself, as far as she could remember but maybe she wasn't just there to prove a point to her parents. Maybe she needed to find herself and find out the truth about the seemingly perfect world Capitol appeared to be. She opened a drawer and was glad to see that they'd taken care of the lace choker she brought from home. Wanting to feel a bit more like herself again, she took it, ran her finger along the engraved names of Lovelace girls in the past and put it on. She smiled at her reflection before walking out to the dining room.


Seeing Jett and her mentor were already there, she made brief apologies for taking so long in the shower and sat herself down. Dinner started out quiet and the only thing she could here was the clattering of utensils and plates. She watched as the Avox were here and there getting food on and off the table. The food was delicious, actually and she thought she'd eaten more in that one meal than she ever had in her entire life. But what she was really focusing on was her partner, Jett. While other tributes might have already been comfortable with their partners at this point of time, Sylvia knew that she and Jett barely knew each other. Especially now that she had the feeling that he thought she was some kind of shallow, spoiled brat, she didn't know how to open up communication with him. Both of them seemed like introverts and besides, Jett had sort of a conspiracy going on in his mind. She liked him for some reason. Probably because he seemed smarter than other boys their age. Probably because he seemed like a deeper thinker than them. She sighed, trying to grope around for any conversation starter she could while avoiding the parade topic at all means. "Umm..." She pushed her food around her plate. "So, first day of training tomorrow, huh?"


Okay, so it might not be the best you've seen but as I've said, I'm open to a challenge and to improving.


I'm pretty much open to just about anything (especially romance) but I'm not much of a sci-fi or anthro player. I'm pretty interested in good fantasy RPs with good backgrounds, slice of life RPs that aren't too cliche and I've had a particular interest in medieval RPs just recently. I also prefer playing girls and I'm slightly, just very slightly uncomfortable with playing same-gender RPs.


Hope to see interested RP-ers!

 

[DOMPH BLOO]

I am Domph Bloo and I borrowed this from another reply. Don't really have any recent thread examples to give you but the one below is sort of an improv. Maybe an examples of a starter or opening post.

• I have been RPing since I was 16: so 4 years?
  
• Writing Level: I prefer paragraphs. Word count ranging from 500-1500. Love details and action.
  
• Specific Interests: I am pretty across the board with characters. I will play both girl and guy, different ages (because it is boring to play someone my own age), different ethnic backgrounds, etc. What I love is a detailed plot (either overall or between characters) and strong character development. I am a character monger by the way. So it is really hard to stick to just one. But as a writer, I promise that each will get development and plots. At one time I like to play two to three characters. Either one on one or a small group would be nice. With one on one however I would expect the other person to be able to juggle characters too or be willing to interact with the rest. It's sort of dull when there are a limited number of characters. I am a very plot driven person. So while there is something happening here, there can be something happening over here and all of a sudden it comes together and makes sense. But I'll cease my blabbering now...Just figured I'd emphasize how much I love strong stories and characters.
  
• Genres: Again, pretty across the board. When in doubt please feel free to shot me a PM. I like an array of different genres but what I won't play are Fandoms, animal RPs, military based (though if it is a historical setting like WWII or something that is ok), a battle royale, most high school or similarly based rps. When it comes to sci-fi I fet turned off by space based RPs. Not sure why. Some of my favorite RPs include: real life (circus or carnival based, historical, a sort of government spy setting), supernatural (where a species or two live underground in the human world, a sort of True Blood plot where they have "came out", many more), Sci-Fi (post-apoc, zombies, Dystopian Future, Authoritarian regime, etc). There are a lot. But I am willing to hear suggestions.
  
• This I just wrote from an old concept. I do play both guys and girls though.
  

Sometimes you wake up to fluorescent lights. It’s quite an ordinary thing really. You spend your whole educational existence waking up to a bell and fluorescent lights.Depending on your career choice, you may open those bright peepers up to a low hanging ceiling lit by what? Fluorescent lights. If you are extremely unlucky, you wake up to a hospital room bustling with nurses and the rhythmic beeping of your heart rate…and of course…those ever present fluorescent lights.


Here is yet another occasion when you open those eyes and everything is a blur. You wonder “What happened? Where am I?” As the room comes into focus, you begin to notice the posters on the wall. “Hang in there Champ!” one reads with a Grim Reaper holding a young child’s hand. Before you start questioning such dark humor, you hear a few stifled cries. You spin around to figure out who is in so much distress. That’s when you discover the line.





Yes, you are standing in a line. Which is odd, because you should be in a hospital, right? This is where I inform you, my dear reader, that you have died. You are currently reading a pamphlet at the Death Directory Communications Centers.First you may be in denial…perhaps shock…


Slade gazed up from the pamphlet, peering around at the other folks in line. They were in all sorts of dress; nightgowns, business suits, half dressed, and even a naked butt glanced out of the front somewhere. Wiping the back of his neck he realized that his own attire was a little less then savory. Why in the ever blazes was he still in his tear downs? He may have been a carny but his mama had taught him better than to show up all greased up with holes in the knees.


Slowly, the line progressed and never did anything click into place. Last time...well, last thing he remembered was putting tilt-a-whirl bolt plates on the trailer. Blackness occupied the remainder of from then to now. Fingers clutched the pamphlet a little tighter. Was this some joke? Didn't smell like no hospital. No bleach or medicine or nurses in scrubs. But there was still that faintly familiar touch. That scent that taunted and teased but never revealed its name lurked forever on his mind. Was that decay? It had a murky moldy like sensation...


"Next!" He had always hated hospitals. They reminded him of how very mortal he was. One day, like his drunken daddy, his bible thumping mama, and his POW brother, he too would die. "NEXT!" Slade started as a woman with horned glasses waved him down. "Hurry up...we only have eternity." Tipping his hat, the man lumbered through the swinging doors. Inside he was greeted by a wide mouthed young women with a sharp clean green dress. She talked fast and moved faster. His southern demeanor pinned her clearly as a big city Yank. They were always in a hurry. Places to be, people to see...he never really got it. What was the point of going all those places and seeing all those people if you never got to stop and live the moment?


"Well Slade Rowe, here we are." An office door was pushed open for him and a seat offered. The women, he thought she had introduced herself as Diana, sat behind a stack of manila folders. Blue eyes peeped over at him before she blushed and pushed them aside. Off in the shadows of the room were various shoots and tunnels that reminded him of the ones at the drive-up that banks have. One hummed and a capsule shot down. Diana ignored it for a second before rising to retrieve it.


"So..." She started, popping the top off. "Do you understand why you are here?"


"This paper sure doesn't help, ma'am," He held up the brightly printed welcoming kit.


"Ah yes...if I had it my way we wouldn't pass those things out. But really...do you know why you're here?"


"I don' even know where here is, ma'am, much less tell ya why I am here."


“You’re dead Mr. Rowe. At 7:03on May 19, 1988 you were setting up Gypsy Foot’s tilt-a-whirl andas you were putting a bolt plate on the chain snapped and it fell.The paramedics couldn’t do anything for you. Course, five hundredpounds on the top of your noggin is pretty fatal.” No sugary buildup. No tissues. Just a cold hard slap of reality.


The only thing he could do was lean back and spout out, "Yer kiddin'." Big forearms crossed over his chest. Dark brown eyes squinted hard at the little lady. If the room was supposed to be welcoming and comforting...Slade diminished it with his cold stare. This joke wasn't funny anymore.


"Afraid not, Mr. Rowe. I am your current caseworker. No you can apply to get a new one if you so desire...but for the time being I have managed to set you up with an apartment on the east side and a job working as a maintenance man for the building. It is mandatory that you maintain this job while you are in Limbo a-"


"Is that what they call it? Limbo," He drew the word out to an impossible length. Tasted salty and bitter...but most of all Limbo tasted like something you wanted to spit back out.


"Yes...that's what we call it. Now if you woul-"


"I think I had enough...jus' give me that there envelop and I'll figure ever'thing out on my own." He held his hand out, demanding not asking. "If I'm dead than what the f*ck is the point of pretendin' I'm alive..."


"It's not about being alive, Mr. Rowe. It's about passing on." Inside his heart sank at the sorrow that dripped in her voice. It resembled the years he suspected she wished she could cry. "You haven't done that yet. None of us have." Her smile wasn't as wide as it once was and as she handed him the folder she held tight. "Take my card...you're going to need it eventually." Without further delay, she placed the tiny piece of paper on top of the folder and walked him to the door.


Slade shuffled through the halls to a check out. He signed his name and asked the receptionist where his new home was.