Yoda Snek
"Truly wonderful the mind of a snek is" ~Yoda Snek
Hello there!
Yoda Snek here!
I'm very pleased to see that my thread has peaked your interest! I am seventeen, with a love for writing
and enjoy creating deep, meaningful stories with others! I am looking for about 1-2 partners looking to improve their writing
and who want to help create something that can be truly magical, something beautiful!
`ABOUT ME `
- I'm pretty casual in OOC but formal in IC
- I would like to say that I'm a semi-advanced writer, but I will acknowledge that I have some ways to go!
I will say that I'm the sort to continually proof-read my work before sending it, though please don't feel
as if you have to meet that same standard!
- I may spend time developing characters, worlds, and plots since I really look to create a something complex and meaningful.
Not that you may not! I'm simply very critical, an overthinker, and indecisive so I may spend a lot more time to do these things!
- I do tend to have multiple paragraph posts, though I do value quality over quantity
- I enjoy deeper, darker, and wholesome themes as well as romance and platonic relationships!
- Because I am a student, I will be restricted to posting about one to two times a week with a few posts
- I would like some amount of OOC. It doesn't have to be a casual flippant conversation, we can even use it simply as a way to plan out scenes and characters!
- In terms of romance, I do tend to stick to only MxF pairings, though I can play either gender. But I will say that I'm equally as up to a platonic relationship!
- I will say that I would like to roleplay with those who are 15+
- I'm pretty casual in OOC but formal in IC
- I would like to say that I'm a semi-advanced writer, but I will acknowledge that I have some ways to go!
I will say that I'm the sort to continually proof-read my work before sending it, though please don't feel
as if you have to meet that same standard!
- I may spend time developing characters, worlds, and plots since I really look to create a something complex and meaningful.
Not that you may not! I'm simply very critical, an overthinker, and indecisive so I may spend a lot more time to do these things!
- I do tend to have multiple paragraph posts, though I do value quality over quantity
- I enjoy deeper, darker, and wholesome themes as well as romance and platonic relationships!
- Because I am a student, I will be restricted to posting about one to two times a week with a few posts
- I would like some amount of OOC. It doesn't have to be a casual flippant conversation, we can even use it simply as a way to plan out scenes and characters!
- In terms of romance, I do tend to stick to only MxF pairings, though I can play either gender. But I will say that I'm equally as up to a platonic relationship!
- I will say that I would like to roleplay with those who are 15+
` PLOT S & PAIRINGS`
In terms of plots, I've been looking to flesh out a world and a more well-developed story for a short narrative I wrote. It's a sci-fi/dystopian concept encompassing concepts from
"A Quiet Place" and "The Road" and other general apocalyptical and dystopian, "end of the world" themes. My characters, an older girl/woman and the young, eight year old boy accompanying her are two survivors who witnessed the deaths of their families at the hands of the creatures that invaded the planet. Think long bodied, warped monsters with thin arms and trample the ground on all fours. They're journeying to a safe haven mapped out by her father, though they have to be careful, for chances of death are very, very high. Somehow your character would run into them, struggling from their own issues and their own trauma. In a way it's a healing story, wholesome yet dark.
Besides this, I'm quiet honestly open to any sort of pairings! Please feel free to bring something you've been wanting to try to the table!
Oh! Before I forget, here's a sample of my writing!
In terms of plots, I've been looking to flesh out a world and a more well-developed story for a short narrative I wrote. It's a sci-fi/dystopian concept encompassing concepts from
"A Quiet Place" and "The Road" and other general apocalyptical and dystopian, "end of the world" themes. My characters, an older girl/woman and the young, eight year old boy accompanying her are two survivors who witnessed the deaths of their families at the hands of the creatures that invaded the planet. Think long bodied, warped monsters with thin arms and trample the ground on all fours. They're journeying to a safe haven mapped out by her father, though they have to be careful, for chances of death are very, very high. Somehow your character would run into them, struggling from their own issues and their own trauma. In a way it's a healing story, wholesome yet dark.
Besides this, I'm quiet honestly open to any sort of pairings! Please feel free to bring something you've been wanting to try to the table!
Oh! Before I forget, here's a sample of my writing!
.. Addie ..
We’ve decided to rest in a clearing. I think it’s midday. It’s sunny but there are no birds, no sounds, except the moaning of the wind. Bennie is chewing loudly on some jerky we got from the old man at the last camp. It’s better than the stale granola bars that I’ve stuffed in my pack. Douggie is sitting next to him, his ears twitching at the harrowing howls carried by the wind. Is it them? Are they calling through the wind? They sound like death.
Bennie doesn’t know that my leg is swollen, has been swollen, has been swollen for the past 5 days, has been swollen from the beginning. There’s a gash there, there on my leg, there on my left leg leaking pus and turning green like the grass and blue like the sky and brown like the dirt where the dead people lie. Except my parents aren’t in the dirt. They are lying in my house, on the floor. They are soaked in their blood that goes drip drip from their wounds, from their souls, staining the carpet that Appa had bought the day before and said, “Addie doesn’t this look good in this room” and Amma said, “it makes the room look faded,” and they argued over petty things until they laughed like they always did, like they had always done. But they can’t anymore, they can’t do what they did anymore, because of the monster that killed them. Because of the monster that buried its claw in my leg as I picked up the gun on the ground and gave it death with a painful sting. Because of the monster that ripped at Bennie’s eyes, now cloudy and colorless, and at the chests of Bennie’s mother, and father, and grandfather, and sister, making them bleed till all the life in them had spilled out, their agony robbed by the wind. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to DIE. I don’t WANT to DIE. I DON’T WANT to DIE. I DON’T WANT TO DIE.
“Addie? Why are you crying?” Bennie’s voice is next to me. He is sitting next to me, his hand holding mine tightly, his fingers on my face. I can feel the wetness he is wiping away, but the tears are still there on my skin. I sniff. “It’s nothing Bennie,” I say, pushing his hand away, moving away from him a little, “allergies or something. Come on, get up. Let’s go.”
Bennie
We started walking on the highway a little while ago. Addie says that there used to be tons of cars that would drive up and down on it everyday. She said it was squeezed full of cars, like how Douggie and Addie and I all squeeze together when we go to sleep to get warm. I wish it could be like that now. We wouldn’t have to be alone then. We could be all together and our friends could be people, not the dying wind, and the suffering trees, and the leaves that we were killing twice. I think I like the highway. On the highway our friends are not the dying wind, or the suffering trees, or the leaves that we kill twice. On the highway our friend is the sun. It greets us everyday, reaching out its hands to touch our faces. Addie says the sun is bright and yellow, but all I know is that it is warm and comforting and makes me feel not alone.
Sometimes the wind shrieks, but Addie says that it’s not the wind. It’s them. So we have to be quiet because we don't want them to find us again. But I think they have already found us because their screaming keeps following us. I know that because wherever we go, we can’t run away from the screaming, and so I know that they have already found us.
Addie falls forward again. I can hear the pebbles under her shoes scraping the hard road. The sound hurts my ears. I pull my hand back, the one that is holding onto her coat, so that I am pulling her towards me. “Addie? Are you okay?” I say, squeezing her coat in my hand. Addie doesn’t say anything. I feel something soft and scratchy brush against my legs.
“Addie? What are those things on my legs?” I ask.
“They’re weeds,” she says.
“Weeds?” I ask.
“Yeah. Plants that no one wants,” she says. Addie is slowly becoming not a tree. She is turning into the leaves that we kill twice, the leaves that are crunchy and weak and dead. Her voice is dying away like the leaves on the trees that are limp and can’t stay on any longer.
“Addie? Are we there yet?” I ask. My stomach feels funny. Addie stops walking. She rips my hand from her jacket.
“You’ve asked me a million times already. Shut up!” Her voice echoes. It bounces around the open space. She sounds scared. The fear in her voice is bouncing around too. It is surrounding us. Can they hear us? Can they hear the fear that is all around us? I hear the gravel scraping the pavement. Addie is leaving. She is walking away. She is leaving me. I don't want her to go. The sun is burning my face now, burning the skin on my legs.
“Addie don’t leave me!” I am hugging myself because the sun isn’t hugging me anymore and we can’t be alone together if Addie is leaving me.
I feel something on my back. Them?
“Get up. You’re such a baby, you know that?” Addie pulls me up on my feet. Her hands are hot and sweaty. I didn’t know I was sitting down. Douggie sticks his nose in my face, licking my face all over.
We’ve decided to rest in a clearing. I think it’s midday. It’s sunny but there are no birds, no sounds, except the moaning of the wind. Bennie is chewing loudly on some jerky we got from the old man at the last camp. It’s better than the stale granola bars that I’ve stuffed in my pack. Douggie is sitting next to him, his ears twitching at the harrowing howls carried by the wind. Is it them? Are they calling through the wind? They sound like death.
Bennie doesn’t know that my leg is swollen, has been swollen, has been swollen for the past 5 days, has been swollen from the beginning. There’s a gash there, there on my leg, there on my left leg leaking pus and turning green like the grass and blue like the sky and brown like the dirt where the dead people lie. Except my parents aren’t in the dirt. They are lying in my house, on the floor. They are soaked in their blood that goes drip drip from their wounds, from their souls, staining the carpet that Appa had bought the day before and said, “Addie doesn’t this look good in this room” and Amma said, “it makes the room look faded,” and they argued over petty things until they laughed like they always did, like they had always done. But they can’t anymore, they can’t do what they did anymore, because of the monster that killed them. Because of the monster that buried its claw in my leg as I picked up the gun on the ground and gave it death with a painful sting. Because of the monster that ripped at Bennie’s eyes, now cloudy and colorless, and at the chests of Bennie’s mother, and father, and grandfather, and sister, making them bleed till all the life in them had spilled out, their agony robbed by the wind. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to DIE. I don’t WANT to DIE. I DON’T WANT to DIE. I DON’T WANT TO DIE.
“Addie? Why are you crying?” Bennie’s voice is next to me. He is sitting next to me, his hand holding mine tightly, his fingers on my face. I can feel the wetness he is wiping away, but the tears are still there on my skin. I sniff. “It’s nothing Bennie,” I say, pushing his hand away, moving away from him a little, “allergies or something. Come on, get up. Let’s go.”
Bennie
We started walking on the highway a little while ago. Addie says that there used to be tons of cars that would drive up and down on it everyday. She said it was squeezed full of cars, like how Douggie and Addie and I all squeeze together when we go to sleep to get warm. I wish it could be like that now. We wouldn’t have to be alone then. We could be all together and our friends could be people, not the dying wind, and the suffering trees, and the leaves that we were killing twice. I think I like the highway. On the highway our friends are not the dying wind, or the suffering trees, or the leaves that we kill twice. On the highway our friend is the sun. It greets us everyday, reaching out its hands to touch our faces. Addie says the sun is bright and yellow, but all I know is that it is warm and comforting and makes me feel not alone.
Sometimes the wind shrieks, but Addie says that it’s not the wind. It’s them. So we have to be quiet because we don't want them to find us again. But I think they have already found us because their screaming keeps following us. I know that because wherever we go, we can’t run away from the screaming, and so I know that they have already found us.
Addie falls forward again. I can hear the pebbles under her shoes scraping the hard road. The sound hurts my ears. I pull my hand back, the one that is holding onto her coat, so that I am pulling her towards me. “Addie? Are you okay?” I say, squeezing her coat in my hand. Addie doesn’t say anything. I feel something soft and scratchy brush against my legs.
“Addie? What are those things on my legs?” I ask.
“They’re weeds,” she says.
“Weeds?” I ask.
“Yeah. Plants that no one wants,” she says. Addie is slowly becoming not a tree. She is turning into the leaves that we kill twice, the leaves that are crunchy and weak and dead. Her voice is dying away like the leaves on the trees that are limp and can’t stay on any longer.
“Addie? Are we there yet?” I ask. My stomach feels funny. Addie stops walking. She rips my hand from her jacket.
“You’ve asked me a million times already. Shut up!” Her voice echoes. It bounces around the open space. She sounds scared. The fear in her voice is bouncing around too. It is surrounding us. Can they hear us? Can they hear the fear that is all around us? I hear the gravel scraping the pavement. Addie is leaving. She is walking away. She is leaving me. I don't want her to go. The sun is burning my face now, burning the skin on my legs.
“Addie don’t leave me!” I am hugging myself because the sun isn’t hugging me anymore and we can’t be alone together if Addie is leaving me.
I feel something on my back. Them?
“Get up. You’re such a baby, you know that?” Addie pulls me up on my feet. Her hands are hot and sweaty. I didn’t know I was sitting down. Douggie sticks his nose in my face, licking my face all over.
