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@eccentr1cs
ECCENTR1CS — a 21+ indie rp blog brought to you by kit. multimuse, multiship, multiverse. selective. low activity. access to the beta editor only. i have a 0 tolerance policy for ai usage in any capacity, thanks. previously @unrcfined.
ft. a shit ton of artists, disaster bisexuals, and attempts to be punk rock.
rules. muses. wanted plots. wanted opps. opens. credits.
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CHARITHRA CHANDRAN via Instagram
“Oral, preferably,” Matt sighed, fairly certain that the infection was beyond anything topical could handle. They could’ve used it in the beginning, but, well… Too late now, wasn’t it? However, if that was the only thing he could walk out of here with, he’d certainly take it. It was better than nothing, anyway.
Easily jumping over the counter, Matt studied the shelf the other was talking about. It did look heavy, but not impossible to move. Hell, he probably could move it on his own if he really wanted to. But he was tired and exhausted from the heat, from all the walking and searching he’d done throughout the day. So he nodded towards the shelf while looking at the stranger. “Well, come on then.” Waiting until they joined him, Matt then grabbed one side of the shell. “You push, I pull. Put your whole weight behind it. Ready?” Counting them down, Matt then pulled with whatever strength he could muster, and slowly, the shelf moved.
Once the door was unblocked, he tried the handle and—unsurprisingly—it was locked. So he used whatever strength he had left to kick in the door with one well-placed kick near the lock. The door flew open, and, pulling out a set of daggers, he slowly made his way inside to clear the room and make sure there was nothing inside that could potentially attack them. As soon as he was confident enough that there was nothing left, he put the daggers back away and instead waved the other inside. “We’re good. You can take whatever. All I ask for is those antibiotics if you happen to find any. Deal?” Then he paused. "I'm Matt, by the way."
"deal." haru echoed. they stumbled into the office after the stranger — matt — in a daze. the whole kicking-in-the-door thing had always felt like it belonged in fiction rather than being something someone would just do. matt was much stronger than he looked. the blades were startling too — they looked legitimate and intimidating. he certainly hadn't found his gear at walmart or gas stations like a lot of the other survivors haru had met. a chill ran down their spine. maybe they should have kept a hold on their hatchet for a little longer. just in case.
they cleared their throat, popping a squat in front of one of the cabinets, scanning for anything of note, "i'm haru." they were quiet for a moment — hesitant. they bit down on their bottom lip. "can i ask what you need them for? i don't mean to be — i mean — you just kicked down a door." haru exhaled in a way that was almost a laugh. "that was crazy, by the way. useful. but crazy. you just don't seem sick. that's all." they opened the cabinet door and squinted at the worn labels on the shelves. "i'm not a doctor," they drummed their fingers on the nearest shelf, "but my mother was a nurse." a lump began to swell in their throat. they swallowed it down. "i might be more useful to you if i know what you're trying to treat."
closed starter for @dcgtown
"shower's all yours." tamara slipped out of her bathroom with damp curls, one of miles' old shirts slipping off of her shoulder, and tossed him a clean, fluffy towel. he looked dead to the world, but she knew he wasn't asleep. she'd heard something playing on his phone when she'd gotten out of the shower. "earth to miles," tamara sing-songed, shuffling towards the prone form on her bed, "did you see the screenshot i sent you? there's some kind of local indie film contest. the submission deadline is in a few months. if you haul ass, you could make it." she nudged him with her foot. "yah, sleepyhead. you didn't come that hard."
not doing sinday but
somebody should tell haru to rail them while haru is wearing a skirt. it's visionary and you can't tell me i'm wrong. that's all
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headcanon (1/?): haru can do the natu natu choreography from rrr, not because they're particularly into dance, but because priya made them learn it with her
✶ ︵ *dash game: knowing your writing partner can potentially make writing together a lot easier!
the basics
name: kit
pronouns: they/them
sexuality: i've identified as bi since i was a teen but now that i'm genderfunky and older etc, i think i identify more as just... queer. but i use both interchangeably still. old habits die hard i suppose and i consider bisexuality to be fully inclusive of trans identities anyway, per its original definition from like... the 70s?
three facts
i'm getting married in october of this year, before i even hit 25 — #childbride. it's not something i ever expected, but when you know you know
i've always been an arts and humanities person but i recently finished a college diploma in natural resources. i think ( this is a new-ish development ) that i may look towards becoming a horticulturist now. which is kinda cool. would fit considering my obsessions with folkore/witchcraft/herbalism etc
i got into kpop about a year ago and while it wasn't something i intended to do, i've found it and the groups i like to be really beneficial to my self-expression and mental health. i'm going to get back into dance when i can afford it bc of kpop. a win is a win!
roleplay experience
how long: i've been at it since i was about 12 or so i think? so... half of my life. 12 or 13 years. going on 14 at an absolute maximum
platforms you've used: i started on quotev, moved to tumblr, moved to discord, and now i'm on tumblr and discord. not in any groups though. haven't got it in me
best experience: she doesn't write on here anymore, but without a shadow of a doubt, it was meeting liz ( @enchaxxted ). our friendship is going 7 years strong and she'll be the maid of honour at my wedding. she puts up with so much of my bullshit and has offered me more grace than anyone else alive, i think. she's family. i've told her she can have my bones if she wants them when she ascends to cryptidhood
muse preferences
female or male: had a stint where i sucked at writing female muses and it was terribly embarrassing and frustrating for me. but i think i'm getting better. i still feel really good about my male muse writing abilities and that's be true since i started tumblr rp back in 2017/2018, but now i just like writing anyone trans. it brings me so much joy
fluff, angst, smut: i think i'm terrible at angst. but i don't think my assessment of my writing has ever been accurate once. i'm an unreliable narrator in my own life at times. i like all three as long as there's a good plot, i just LOVE plotting and worldbuilding. i want to be able to see the thread going somewhere and i want emotional payoff, i want to be able to have things to say
plots or memes: i never really got into memes. like ever in my entire tumblr "career". not because they don't seem cool, i just never quite figured it out or found the urge. i really like to plot, to have a conversation, to feed off of my partners. i literally talk to myself to understand my own thoughts and though i've long gotten over the worst of my anxiety, i hate trying to figure out where my partners want a thread to go or if they're into what we're doing. please yap with me, i'm the least cool/intimidating/whatever person i've ever met
long or short replies: it depends on the day, the content, the phase of the moon, the appeasement of the great beast — i'm neurodivergent, man, i don't know. medium, maybe. just know i'll get to the reply as soon as my brain allows
best time to write: for now it's early evening, i think. that's really the only time i have at the moment anyway. i get sleepy more now that i work full time so the later it gets, the more i just want to watch stupid compilations and then go to bed
are you like your muse(s): all of them have different pieces of me, whether intentionally or unintentionally. i can't write a neurotypical muse, for example, because i don't have a neurotypical brain. just can't fathom life on the other side. so all of my muses probably exhibit neurodivergent behaviours by accident and i'd blanket them all under a nondescript neurodivergent label. i have chosen to make every muse queer in some aspect as well. i have no interest in writing a cishet person, no offence to cishet people. there's enough rep for that in the big wide world and i think it would be limiting, which i don't want. each muse has specific traits or quirks or interests of mine that i tend to notice over time, feel free to ask if you want to know about anyone in particular
tagged by: @sturmboe, thank you my pookie stole formatting from: @feilien ( what up, jy? you had nothing to do with this but your formatting for your post was super accessible, so i stole it. thanks! ) tagging: @dcgtown, @wcrstbehavior, @inkshadow ( it really is me and my like 5 friends against the world rn but i am not complaining, y'all are so great! )
The Bear— “The Original Beef of Chicagoland” (5.08)
I'll do anything for you, so stay with me forever. Sukui, Sukuware (2026)
Honda Kyoya as Kitano Yuki in すぱいす。(2025)
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i'm okay with:
starting over - are you a little overwhelmed with where our thread is going? let me know, and i'd be happy to start a new one with you!
pausing - if you're feeling one thread more than another we have going on, that's perfectly fine! you're welcome to let me know if you'd like, but it's not a necessity.
multiples - if we have a ship that you love and you have many ideas for them, always feel welcome to throw them at me no matter what! while it may affect my reply speed due to having more, it doesn't affect my interest at all!
regrouping - maybe we initially had an idea that didn't pan out but you don't know how to say it? just shoot me a message and let me know you'd like to plot further/something else.
anything else - have we not talked and you want to? shoot me a message! send in a meme if you don't know where to start! ask for my discord! i may not initiate too often myself, but i love being able to love our threads together!
feeling self-indulgent, may make some unabashedly canadian muses
closed starter for @sturmboe
hwang yejun went to great pains to keep his life tidy. everything had its box, everything stayed in its box, and the boxes never touched. this was how he was able to maintain a relative equilibrium — this was his understanding of peace. and he was content.
presently, he was setting everything on fire.
his ex-boyfriend's gym was at his back. looming, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, encouraging him to light up a cigarette. he hadn't smoked when he and nat were dating because he'd thought nat would find it unappealing. yeeun still teased him for it. yejun pressed a hand to his sternum as a sharp pang struck it. however uncomfortable he was, however badly he wanted to run before he was spotted, he had to stay. for her. what kind of brother — twin — would he be if he couldn't do even this?
he almost jumped a foot in the air when the doors opened. it was after close, so there was only one person it could be. yejun turned his head to the side, blowing out smoke and hoping it didn't reach nat. "i'm sorry for showing up like this." it was nothing short of a miracle that his voice was audible. he crushed the butt of his cigarette beneath his shoe. straightened. "but i need to talk to you." it hurt to force himself to lift his gaze, to make eye contact with the only person he'd ever truly avoided, and hope that he would take pity on him. "something is wrong with yeeunnie."
open to: m/f/nb 25+ plot: stereotypical noisy neighbour drama. éile could be a drama queen, whether or not she's over-exaggerating is up to you, but she is unhinged and ready for a fight.
"open up, you insufferable bastard!" éile pounded on the cheap wood plastic composite door of the flat next to hers with a fury that could only belong to a woman who was suffering from week-long sleep deprivation. she would've been happy to ignore them indefinitely but they seemed to have a knack for making themself very noticeable — at the worst hours, too. the wee ones, where she might have done some good writing, if their music wasn't piercing through her noise-cancelling headphones. and the music wasn't the half of it. the slamming doors, the fucking pornos they seemed to be making — éile was as sex positive as the next liberal arts alumni but there was a line.
"by jaysus," her voice was loud enough to wake the dead and that caused satisfaction to simmer beneath her skin, some small start to the vengeance she deserved, "i'll do things to you that make hannibal lecter look like a bloody disney princess! like a spokesperson for fecking peta! answer for your crimes!"
continued for @eccentr1cs from the source
duri doesn't even really acknowledge her flowery words, and even less so this offer of hers. all he knows is his business that he's desperate to keep running as smoothly and efficiently as possible, and his sister. those will forever by his greatest priorities. he damn near cursed himself over the fact that he'd grown entangled with the woman that now stands at the threshold of his door. what was meant to be a brief distraction turned into something that lingered, a bad taste in his mouth that was addicting all the same. she was nearly as addictive as his filthy smoking habit. at least she didn't ask him to quit it when they were together; it was unlikely he would've given her the time of day at that point.
"no agreement is mutually beneficial for us," duri responds, bored as always as he tends to his books. finances are to be reported out soon and there is very little she can say or do that could pry him away from his desk. "so you'll either speak for five minutes and waste your breath or i can turn you away now and we won't need to do this stupid dance."
éile pursed her lips. narrowed her eyes. crossed her arms over her chest. she hadn't expected him to just agree — he was just as stubborn as she was and that had always made things between them interesting — but she had hoped to avoid showing more of her cards than necessary upfront. not an option. great. she inhaled sharply through her nose. "eejit," she mumbled under her breath, somewhat petulantly. this was probably karma. éile attempted to smooth her features out into something resembling indifference as she crossed the room. she plunked herself into the chair in front of his desk, loudly and unceremoniously.
"well." she kicked one leg up over the other, boot knocking into his desk, "as much as i believe in your ability to ignore me," she tapped her toe against the wood again, "you won't." this time. "rather, i'd strongly advise you not to. out of self preservation." she slouched, jostling a loose curl into her face, which she attempted to blow away. she was stalling and she wasn't even doing a good job of pretending she wasn't. it wasn't as though she was losing her touch, she wouldn't. it was obviously his fault. he was giving her absolutely nothing to work with. éile was close enough to see duri's eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks. had they always been that long?
rip the bloody bandaid off already. "i have it on good authority that someone is sniffing around you. thinks there's something more than meets the eye going on under your roof. thinks they're getting awfully close to something that would get them a shiny headline and a shinier bonus."
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@eccentr1cs
Truthfully Owen was a little surprised that Know didn't just walk out, but maybe that was just their stress levels talking. They offer her a thankful smile as they finally take a seat opposite from her now that another bartender had finally clocked in. "I promise it's not usually like this," they say, waving at the chaos that was finally dying down. "We're in a transition period with staff, but it's only 'cause we've grown a lot this last year," they nod, glancing over the resume in front of them but really just wanting to get a feel if this was going to be a good fit since the experience was obviously there. "So, tell me about your last job? It's my favorite part of the interview is hearing former work place gossip," they tease.
know let out a faint huff of amusement. "ah." she had no issue with workplace gossip, everyone she was close to was a fiend for it, particularly because they all had 'adult' jobs. there was never much complaint about her choices, though, because it lead to discounted drinks. "well it was in london," her lips curled upwards, "and i think my coworkers could be best described as a... toxic, unnegotiated ploycule by the time i left. but that's soho for you. bright, blurry, exciting... messy." know pulled a face. "i like busy but i could do with a bit less of the mess." nevermind the fact that she couldn't seem to keep herself from tracing owen's features with her eyes.
"or what?" ash has always been a little explosive with his emotions. he seemingly can't help himself especially when he finds out the dude he's fucking is married. to like an entire person. he tips his head to the side, locs falling over his shoulder as he searches robin's face for the punchline. like this is a joke. is he really being so casual about a fucking entire marriage? "you don't see why..." ash's brow furrows as he glances around like he's being filmed for punk'd.
"oh so you get to judge my life but i can't judge yours? that's real convenient when you don't know a fuckin' thing about me." ash laughs as he shakes his head in disbelief. "hypocrite." he hisses as he gets up from the table. the last thing ash is going to do is be the fucking side piece. he would rather rip out his own eyeballs then help someone cheat. "yeah you're right we are done." this is what he gets for even thinking fucking this guy would turn into something else. something more. it never would. "thinkin' you can make me look dumb is insane. fuck you."
robin blinked as the explosion continued, deafening and somehow in slow motion despite its intensity. irritation curled in his chest like a restless, fanged animal. "i didn't make you do anything," he hissed, "you did it all by yourself." his chair scraped loudly across the floor as he pushed to his feet. he hated explaining his situation. he'd gotten tired of waiting for understanding that never came a long time ago, and worse, some particularly bitter people had gone after know. he doubted ash would do that but he had reason to be protective. there were very few people robin trusted and she was at the top of the list. besides, she had sacrificed her uncomplicated life for him.
"tell me," he jerkily pulled the sleeves of his dress shirt down, fumbling for the cuff links he'd left on the table, "would you feel inclined to explain yourself to someone who started throwing out accusations the second you sat down? hmm?" there was a fire in robin's eyes now. he wasn't bothered because he cared about how ash saw him specifically, but he didn't like being prodded at this way. "you didn't even bother to ask. so who's the hypocrite?" robin scoffed, "self-righteous, too."
