thinking
sad
Hey, stop scrolling! Before I get carried away with the interesting role-play stuff, let me just introduce myself calmly with some basic information and facts. A lot of this is of irrelevant venting, like some kind of filler episode in a t.v series, the ins and outs of my development as a writer, poet and professional talker.
My name is Sydney, I have zero confidence in myself despite being ripely over the age of twenty-one. My currentanxiety and depression state of mind is crippling, affecting every aspect of my creativity, sociality and structure. My pronouns are she/her but in all honesty, I wouldn't give a flying fox if you misgendered me as a male or as a non-binary presenting person because anything goes at the moment. I don’t care, as long as I am treated with respect and decency. Believe it or not, I am extremely shy but once I have left my shell or find interest in something mutually, you won’t get rid of me. That being said, I find it extremely hard to stop once I get started and can potentially become somewhat obsessive and extremely fixated on things. I also can be an over-sharer so unless you’re similar, please remind me about boundaries. I won’t take offense to this and have great insight on it at this present moment. Unfortunately, that's just the way my little neurons have developed through the stress of the past few seasons.
I love out of character discussions, especially about pets. I have a house skunk called Suki. She lives with me at home and is my life at the moment, the only thing apart from a few humans keeping me going. Just a pre warning though, be prepared for an onslaught of photographs and information about her once we are comfortable as writing partners. Honestly, that cutie controls me very being.
I'm situated in the GMT+1 timezone, residing in good, ol’ isolating England. Most of the time, my partners are not of similar waking hours which I don’t mind because I am currently experiencing debilitating insomnia which I am praying discontinues.
The only triggering conversation and writing themes I find distressing are accidental drug overdoses. Anything else that suits the rules and regulations of RPNation I am chill with. Just reflecting on that subject is making my heart ache more than it already did. Please steer clear of this subject unless you warn me before mentioning or you’re a close friend [I don’t have many]. I will be hoping to explore the human psyche through third person, past tense formatted characters that we can create with depth as the story progresses.
Anything to help me ignore reality, really, because trust me, I am suffering.
Word length doesn’t bother me [at least one well constructed paragraph at least, though lol] and neither do writing samples but I guess I could gush out something if you want me to prove my capacity [see spoiler for my most recent writing example ‘24].
I’m doing this for fun as a self-soothing activity, a hobby so to speak- definitely not claiming to be professional or wanting to be strict… In turn, I do expect effort, respect, understanding and appreciation.
What I am looking for is for somebody to be as passionate as I am, I hope you can see that through this essay regarding my requirements LOL. I really, really wish to make new friends because I am so very lonely and can’t deal with it healthily which is why I’ve tentatively dipped back into writing.
My writing interests are conflicting, this is where it gets complex.
I love fantasy, whether it be modern or high. Creating lush environments and intriguing characters is my forte though it does take time for me to find my footing and establishing basic plots. If I have no flow that day, please be patient with me and we can talk through it together.
I ♥ mythical creatures, werewolves, dragons, vampires, merpeople etc. Focuses surrounding secrets, hidden /dual identities, mental ill health and eventual recovery are all themes I am willing to explore. Please, I will write anything to just feel free. I am losing this battle at the moment.
Right now, I am craving a superpower plot. Something dark and gritty involving experimentation, lies, gore and shit like that. Something really involved that it becomes exhausting but lighthearted, unique and emotional. I’ve watched The Boys [no spoilers for season four though] and I think it’s fucking entertaining so enlighten me with something similar please.
I do not like to know what happens next, in a story. I must admit I’m not much of a planner or ‘dungeon master’ but will need a general gist of a plot otherwise I know it’ll become messy and perhaps confusing for us both.
Please PM me, add me on my discord [@scarysidknee] or message below if you want to get chatting!
My name is Sydney, I have zero confidence in myself despite being ripely over the age of twenty-one. My current
I love out of character discussions, especially about pets. I have a house skunk called Suki. She lives with me at home and is my life at the moment, the only thing apart from a few humans keeping me going. Just a pre warning though, be prepared for an onslaught of photographs and information about her once we are comfortable as writing partners. Honestly, that cutie controls me very being.
I'm situated in the GMT+1 timezone, residing in good, ol’ isolating England. Most of the time, my partners are not of similar waking hours which I don’t mind because I am currently experiencing debilitating insomnia which I am praying discontinues.
The only triggering conversation and writing themes I find distressing are accidental drug overdoses. Anything else that suits the rules and regulations of RPNation I am chill with. Just reflecting on that subject is making my heart ache more than it already did. Please steer clear of this subject unless you warn me before mentioning or you’re a close friend [I don’t have many]. I will be hoping to explore the human psyche through third person, past tense formatted characters that we can create with depth as the story progresses.
Anything to help me ignore reality, really, because trust me, I am suffering.
Word length doesn’t bother me [at least one well constructed paragraph at least, though lol] and neither do writing samples but I guess I could gush out something if you want me to prove my capacity [see spoiler for my most recent writing example ‘24].
At long last, the glacial helms of the sawtoothed mountains had begun to recede . They had, once again, defended Arendelle from the blistering winter storms that battered the mainland fjords surrounding the kingdom. The introduction of the warmer weather allowed them to shed their rounded snow caps, leaving their jagged scalps bare. Their formidable omnipresence remained unwavering, reflecting off the quivering water. Working men busied themselves under their watchful eye, hurriedly preparing for the arrival of incoming foreign ships. A vinous fragrance caused by over twelve-dozen oak barrels currently consumed the dock’s occupation. Over six different varieties had just finished being offloaded, on their way to the main castle by cart. It was rare that Arendelle received such exotic imports; their ostracised nature made them rarely contacted by oversea land. However, considering the importance of today's arrivals, the gift from the Mediterranean was graciously accepted by Queen Elsa.
The Queen had meticulously planned to restore and strengthen relationships with those far and surrounding. Last winter, despite Arendelle’s protected bay, had proven devastating for the Spring trade. Reindeer herds travelled further south, to escape the bitter cold and seek edible vegetation and fishermen rightfully did not set their sails in dangerous storms… The situation was not aided by a sudden influx in illness, mainly affecting the vulnerable and young, caused by the frosty atmosphere and isolation. Elsa of Arendelle’s wicked abilities caused further detriment; rumours began to unlawfully plagued her pessimistic subjects deeming her at fault. If it was not for Princess Grethe’s compassion for the public, then Elsa would have found herself vulnerable for treason.
Further inland, women darted around, completing quaint touches to the port. They hung newly bloomed flowers, replacing the oaky scent with floral sweetness, while teenagers aided with pitching bunting to posts. A stray elkhound scampered his way in and out of the crowds, his maw dribbling with saliva as he held something in his mouth. He was so intent on a path, that he accidentally bowled over an unaware child (who immediately combusted into tears) in his primal excitement. The large dog was bounding toward the castle, a place where he received scraps from the kitchen staff and kindness from Princess Grethe herself. Such a heavy bodied animal hurdled over obstacles as elegantly as a goat on a mountain, the obscenities of an angry mother had been long drowned by the scents of blood sausages and freshly baked pastries. As tempting as they were, nothing could distract him from his mission up to the castle.
Daylight trickled through the drawn curtain of Grethe’s chambers. The princess, who lay encased in blankets made of various pelts, did not appear enticed by the dawning sunshine. She groaned, rolling onto her side, smacking her lips in an attempt to return to sleep. She probably only managed to save three minutes, before an immense knocking echoed through the room.
“Grethe!” called a low, yet starkly feminine voice, “That dog of yours was caught causing mayhem down in the dock now! Mauled a child they say!” Grethe, at last, jolted awake. Kristoff, as much as he caused mischief, would not dare harm a fly! The wild haired princess leapt from her bed with immediate haste, stumbling in her sleepiness and threw the oversized door open, panting breathlessly in panic.
Mathilde, a rather hardened woman, stood impatiently in the middle of the frame. She tapped her foot methodically against the granite floor. Her face drooped down into a saddened frown, noticing Grethe remained in her nightwear. The housekeeper shook her head slowly, disappointment radiating like steam from melting snow,
“Oh Grethe… You know what day it is, no?” she paused, muttering something under her breath before continuing gently, “The whole village awaits your attendance and the Queen orders you–” she was abruptly halted by the clang of armour.
“Stop!” a yell painted the hall with panic and Mathilde gasped in shock as the incompetent guard slipped on the tiles, “Stop that dog!” Grethe could not help but exhale a sigh of relief that turned into a fit of hysterics but laughter irked Mathilde further. It had seemed Kristoff had managed to outsmart the guards and reach the princess, who welcomed his presence by bowing down to meet him. She allowed for slobbery kisses as the dog’s tail slapped the angry housemaid on her thigh, his eyes wide with innocent pride. Steadily, the irritation evaporated and Mathilde to joined in with the joyous reunion and petted the dog's back, chuckling softly. “My dear, if you want him out of harm, then you must learn to control him…” Mathilde sneezed, the moulting fur that floated up from the dog tickling her senses, “This thing stinks and like yourself could do with a hot bath,” the older woman pointed to the guard who just about recovered from his fall, “You here, see to it that this wretched dog gets the best treatment! Rid the mutt from fleas, even if you have to pick them out one by one- I don’t care! I will not see any harm to come to him by orders of the Princess!” It was often Mathilde spoke for Grethe, however this occasion she proved very appreciated. Returning from the floor, Grethe hugged the housemaid who in turn muffled another sneeze with her spare hand. Kristoff attempted to join in with the love, balancing on his hind legs to reach them. Frustrated, he began to spin round in circles yapping through his closed mouth, realising he could not get to the women’s faces for another peck. Despite his heightened happiness, discontent wracked his brain. He needed Grethe to be alone, to give her the artefact he found earlier.
The disgruntled guard, who was immediately demoted from his position to care for Kristoff, pulled out a chain from his pocket to restrain the dog who again evaded his seizing and out of sight again.
Princess Grethe finally released Mathilde from her warm and earnest grasp.
“I cannot thank you enough for allowing me to keep Kristoff properly now… You know how much he means to me, that ‘wretched mutt’ got me through some of my hardest chapters, you know, with Elsa’s breakdown and all…” She trailed off, abruptly remembering the cause for the gathering! She swore aloud, much to Mathilde’s shock, and threw the door in her face. Suddenly she felt a painful tenderness in her chest, locking the door from the inside. A sharp coldness clawed on the left side of her breastbone, the scar from five years ago suddenly seemed to be reopening. During Elsa’s quest for freedom she found herself struck in the heart by her sister’s destructive ice magic. The dire quest to restore the summer resulted in the almost destruction of Arendelle and Grethe’s near death. However, did it reveal Arendelle’s truest allies.
She fastened her eyes shut, seeking some sort of composure in the darkness. The princess was often reminded of the Big Freeze in times where sociality was concerned. Whenever the Queen opened up the gates did the sore reopen on her wounded heart.
The Queen had meticulously planned to restore and strengthen relationships with those far and surrounding. Last winter, despite Arendelle’s protected bay, had proven devastating for the Spring trade. Reindeer herds travelled further south, to escape the bitter cold and seek edible vegetation and fishermen rightfully did not set their sails in dangerous storms… The situation was not aided by a sudden influx in illness, mainly affecting the vulnerable and young, caused by the frosty atmosphere and isolation. Elsa of Arendelle’s wicked abilities caused further detriment; rumours began to unlawfully plagued her pessimistic subjects deeming her at fault. If it was not for Princess Grethe’s compassion for the public, then Elsa would have found herself vulnerable for treason.
Further inland, women darted around, completing quaint touches to the port. They hung newly bloomed flowers, replacing the oaky scent with floral sweetness, while teenagers aided with pitching bunting to posts. A stray elkhound scampered his way in and out of the crowds, his maw dribbling with saliva as he held something in his mouth. He was so intent on a path, that he accidentally bowled over an unaware child (who immediately combusted into tears) in his primal excitement. The large dog was bounding toward the castle, a place where he received scraps from the kitchen staff and kindness from Princess Grethe herself. Such a heavy bodied animal hurdled over obstacles as elegantly as a goat on a mountain, the obscenities of an angry mother had been long drowned by the scents of blood sausages and freshly baked pastries. As tempting as they were, nothing could distract him from his mission up to the castle.
Daylight trickled through the drawn curtain of Grethe’s chambers. The princess, who lay encased in blankets made of various pelts, did not appear enticed by the dawning sunshine. She groaned, rolling onto her side, smacking her lips in an attempt to return to sleep. She probably only managed to save three minutes, before an immense knocking echoed through the room.
“Grethe!” called a low, yet starkly feminine voice, “That dog of yours was caught causing mayhem down in the dock now! Mauled a child they say!” Grethe, at last, jolted awake. Kristoff, as much as he caused mischief, would not dare harm a fly! The wild haired princess leapt from her bed with immediate haste, stumbling in her sleepiness and threw the oversized door open, panting breathlessly in panic.
Mathilde, a rather hardened woman, stood impatiently in the middle of the frame. She tapped her foot methodically against the granite floor. Her face drooped down into a saddened frown, noticing Grethe remained in her nightwear. The housekeeper shook her head slowly, disappointment radiating like steam from melting snow,
“Oh Grethe… You know what day it is, no?” she paused, muttering something under her breath before continuing gently, “The whole village awaits your attendance and the Queen orders you–” she was abruptly halted by the clang of armour.
“Stop!” a yell painted the hall with panic and Mathilde gasped in shock as the incompetent guard slipped on the tiles, “Stop that dog!” Grethe could not help but exhale a sigh of relief that turned into a fit of hysterics but laughter irked Mathilde further. It had seemed Kristoff had managed to outsmart the guards and reach the princess, who welcomed his presence by bowing down to meet him. She allowed for slobbery kisses as the dog’s tail slapped the angry housemaid on her thigh, his eyes wide with innocent pride. Steadily, the irritation evaporated and Mathilde to joined in with the joyous reunion and petted the dog's back, chuckling softly. “My dear, if you want him out of harm, then you must learn to control him…” Mathilde sneezed, the moulting fur that floated up from the dog tickling her senses, “This thing stinks and like yourself could do with a hot bath,” the older woman pointed to the guard who just about recovered from his fall, “You here, see to it that this wretched dog gets the best treatment! Rid the mutt from fleas, even if you have to pick them out one by one- I don’t care! I will not see any harm to come to him by orders of the Princess!” It was often Mathilde spoke for Grethe, however this occasion she proved very appreciated. Returning from the floor, Grethe hugged the housemaid who in turn muffled another sneeze with her spare hand. Kristoff attempted to join in with the love, balancing on his hind legs to reach them. Frustrated, he began to spin round in circles yapping through his closed mouth, realising he could not get to the women’s faces for another peck. Despite his heightened happiness, discontent wracked his brain. He needed Grethe to be alone, to give her the artefact he found earlier.
The disgruntled guard, who was immediately demoted from his position to care for Kristoff, pulled out a chain from his pocket to restrain the dog who again evaded his seizing and out of sight again.
Princess Grethe finally released Mathilde from her warm and earnest grasp.
“I cannot thank you enough for allowing me to keep Kristoff properly now… You know how much he means to me, that ‘wretched mutt’ got me through some of my hardest chapters, you know, with Elsa’s breakdown and all…” She trailed off, abruptly remembering the cause for the gathering! She swore aloud, much to Mathilde’s shock, and threw the door in her face. Suddenly she felt a painful tenderness in her chest, locking the door from the inside. A sharp coldness clawed on the left side of her breastbone, the scar from five years ago suddenly seemed to be reopening. During Elsa’s quest for freedom she found herself struck in the heart by her sister’s destructive ice magic. The dire quest to restore the summer resulted in the almost destruction of Arendelle and Grethe’s near death. However, did it reveal Arendelle’s truest allies.
She fastened her eyes shut, seeking some sort of composure in the darkness. The princess was often reminded of the Big Freeze in times where sociality was concerned. Whenever the Queen opened up the gates did the sore reopen on her wounded heart.
I’m doing this for fun as a self-soothing activity, a hobby so to speak- definitely not claiming to be professional or wanting to be strict… In turn, I do expect effort, respect, understanding and appreciation.
What I am looking for is for somebody to be as passionate as I am, I hope you can see that through this essay regarding my requirements LOL. I really, really wish to make new friends because I am so very lonely and can’t deal with it healthily which is why I’ve tentatively dipped back into writing.
My writing interests are conflicting, this is where it gets complex.
I love fantasy, whether it be modern or high. Creating lush environments and intriguing characters is my forte though it does take time for me to find my footing and establishing basic plots. If I have no flow that day, please be patient with me and we can talk through it together.
I ♥ mythical creatures, werewolves, dragons, vampires, merpeople etc. Focuses surrounding secrets, hidden /dual identities, mental ill health and eventual recovery are all themes I am willing to explore. Please, I will write anything to just feel free. I am losing this battle at the moment.
Right now, I am craving a superpower plot. Something dark and gritty involving experimentation, lies, gore and shit like that. Something really involved that it becomes exhausting but lighthearted, unique and emotional. I’ve watched The Boys [no spoilers for season four though] and I think it’s fucking entertaining so enlighten me with something similar please.
I do not like to know what happens next, in a story. I must admit I’m not much of a planner or ‘dungeon master’ but will need a general gist of a plot otherwise I know it’ll become messy and perhaps confusing for us both.
Please PM me, add me on my discord [@scarysidknee] or message below if you want to get chatting!
