you can't take it with you

I’ll keep my blogs up long enough for people to save anything they want for whatever reason, and then if I choose to bring my characters anywhere new, I’ll let people know. Until that time, a large proportion of my characters will probably be permanently shelved from RP.

And @staff I really hope you’re proud of yourselves for throttling creators. My blogs were probably throttled because I flagged my own blogs to prevent those on safe mode (minors and people who didn't want to see sensitive topics) from seeing unsuitable creative writing. You’ve throttled not only artists, but writers and bloggers who were trying to blog responsibly. I can’t say I didn’t see this coming. But honestly it’s now become a question of when the banhammer comes down on all creative blogs regardless of content rather than a question of if.

rules: you  can  only  say  guilty  or  innocent  .  you  are  not  allowed  to  explain  anything  unless  someone  messages  you  or  asks  you .  repost ,  don’t  reblog  !

asked  someone  to  marry  you  ? innocent.

kissed  one  of  your  friends  ?  guilty.

danced  on  a  table  in  a  bar  /  tavern  ?  innocent.

ever  told  a  lie ?  guilty.

had  feelings  for  someone  whom  you  can’t  have  ?  guilty.

ever  kissed  someone  of  the  same  sex  ?  guilty.

kissed  a  picture  ?  guilty.

slept  until  5pm? guilty.

fallen  asleep  at  work  /  school  ? guilty.

held  a  snake  ?  guilty.

been  suspended  from  school  ?  innocent.

worked  at  a  fast  food  chain  /  restaurant  ?  innocent.

stolen  something  ?  guilty.

been  fired  from  a  job  ? innocent.

done  something  you  regret  ?  guilty.

laughed  until  something  you  were  drinking  came  out  of  your  nose  ? guilty.

caught  a  snowflake  on  your  tongue  ? guilty.

kissed  in  the  rain  ?  innocent.

sat  on  a  roof  top  ?  guilty.

kissed  someone  you  shouldn’t  ?  guilty.

sang  in  the  shower  ? guilty.

been  pushed  into  a  pool  with  all  your  clothes  on  ?  guilty.

shaved  your  head  ? innocent.

slept  naked  ?  guilty.

made  a  boyfriend  /  girlfriend  cry ? innocent.

shot  a  gun  ?  guilty.

still  love  someone  you  shouldn’t  ? innocent.

have  /  had  a  tattoo ?  innocent.

liked  someone  ,  but  will  never  tell  who  ?  guilty.

been  too  honest  ?  guilty.

ruined  a  surprise  ?  guilty.

been  told  that  you’re  beautiful  by  someone  who  totally  meant  what  they  said  ?innocent.

still  have  communication  w/  your  ex  ?  innocent.

cheated  on  someone  ?  innocent.

got  so  angry  that  you  cried  ? guilty.

tried  to  stay  away  from  someone  for  their  own  good  ?  innocent.

thoughts  about  suicide  ?  innocent.

thoughts  about  murder  ? guilty.

how  about  mass  murder  ?  innocent.

stalked  someone  ?  guilty.

had  a  girlfriend  /  boyfriend  ? innocent.

gotten  totally  drunk  during  a  holiday  ? guilty.

tagged  by: @eldritchbled

Nesdin had to admit that when he first heard the tale of the mysterious, disgraced noble who spent a great deal of her time in the cemeteries and ruins, the idea he thought up was a bit… romanticized. More reserved and aloof than the excitable and approachable persona she was presenting at the moment, not that he preferred the former!

Heaven forbid yet another adventurer to want nothing to do with him.

“I think that may, ahh- be an overstatement. I just read a lot.” And by the Holy Flame, was that a horrible way to move the conversation along. As her smile grew, somehow he felt more self-conscious at how between the two of them, she was CLEARLY the more socially adjusted. “While, I- what I should be saying that I had read a lot in the past. Not so much anymore, I haven’t the time to spare these days. And I, uh-”

He was rambling. Morven had touched him, he had kissed her hand, and now he was rambling.

“Yeah. Just read a bit on etiquette, never truly had cause to use it.”  

As a well-read and scholarly man, Nesdin was ahead of the former noblewoman by probably several tomes of wisdom. She had always been given things to read and do, and she could read fine, but she’d never really been much interested in learning things like etiquette from dusty old books. She’d learned by doing it, and everything else she’d learned in life she did because she wanted to. Things she may have been expected to just know sometimes eluded her. Like proper greetings, apparently.

Not that she was going to give any of that away so soon. 

More importantly, her new companion - Nesdin; what a curious name! - seemed awfully nervous. She had to wonder why. She didn’t think to move away, still sitting rather close, her hip almost touching his. As he rambled rather sweetly, she smiled patiently and waited for him to finish speaking. After all, she still knew her etiquette!

“Wuh-what is that supposed to mean?”

Nesdin could tell she wasn’t exactly asking him in genuine concern for her own well-being, that she was teasing him. And… it’s strange how nice it feels knowing that she isn’t giving him any special treatment. It was wrong, of course. He was a danger to others, he had to take very specific action to maintain control that others did not. “I’m… not up to anything if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

But still, it was nice.

For a moment, he considers her hand, gloved and outstretched; he was fairly certain he heard the title Lady when he… eavesdropped on a conversation or two regarding the mysterious woman with the wide-brimmed hat.

So he takes it, gingerly wrapping his fingers around hers and tilting the backside of her hand up as he lowered his lips to press a quick kiss along the knuckle. “I’m… uh- pleased? To meet your acquaintance, that is.”

Perhaps he was a dangerous creature, perhaps someone she ought not to provoke and prod, but for now he was just an unassuming gentleman, albeit one in a tattered cloak. Perhaps she should be cautious and keep her distance, fearful of whatever could trigger the transformation and put her right in the middle of the danger zone.

She knew as well as anyone that looks could be deceiving. 

But Morven liked a challenge and the rush of danger. And since that didn’t seem to be something to worry about here, she did also rather enjoy good company.

She simply chuckled at his indignant, confused sounding response to her question, holding her hand out, waiting for him to take it. When he did, she made to close it around his until he lifted it to his lips and bestowed a gentle kiss upon her knuckle. Well. That was unexpected. She blinked in confusion, then smiled even wider, teeth showing.

10. Is Morven street-smart, book-smart, intelligent, intellectual, slow-witted?

“What do you think, dearie?”

Street-smart for sure, and definitely intelligent, having overcome her naiveté through training for this kind of vocation. She’s still not great at socialising like a normal person but at least she’s not vicious?

22. Who are her friends? Lovers? ‘Type’ or ‘ideal’ partner?

“Rich and old.”

She jests. She is fascinated by people in general, really, and friends often have some kind of use to her. Not that it’s a necessity to be her friend. Sometimes she likes to hang out with people and unwind and fun people are her go-to for that, but she enjoys unravelling a mystery, and inaccessible people draw her in like a magnet. Sorry.

29. What is your character’s weaknesses? Hubris? Pride? Controlling?

“That would be telling, wouldn’t it?”

“Mmm, well-”

He rolls his eyes at that, of course his condition was a topic of conversation, how flattering. He has to admit that this interaction of theirs was hardly unpleasant. Certainly strange, as it was very uncommon for one to maintain such a jovial attitude around him; Nesdin generally attracted either rage or pity. “They may be speaking of my physique under more…arduous circumstances.”

It struck him that she knew him before meeting him. He ought to do something about that. “I’m Nesdin.” He said suddenly, a bit awkwardly.  “You really don’t fear me?”

More arduous circumstances. Rather like the age old tale of werewolves, she supposed; a poor afflicted person who changed against their will and who could not shake the horror within, led by pure instinct and otherworldly rage. But from what she’d heard, this one could certainly will the beast into existence. Or was it that only stress would do it? Different people told different stories and people very much liked to stretch the limits of their imagination when recounting their tales to anyone who’d give them the time of day. She didn’t address his point aloud, however, simply shrugging. She was rather more interested in this wiry, compact form now. He had practically confirmed his ability to change, but how could something so legendarily fearsome fit into such an unassuming gentleman?