#fdf rp

Reblog this post and add in the tags

your URL

if you’re a single muse or a multimuse

if they're canon, a mod or an OC

your muse’s name

EXAMPLE: scrunklyrpblog, single muse, animal crossing verse, Scrunkly the Mighty

to be added in the list!

NOTE: if you have a multimuse blog, write as many muses as you have; if you’d like, feel free to give your muse a “title” to describe them!

Reblog this post and add in the tags

your URL

if you’re a single muse or a multimuse

if they’re canon or an OC

your muse’s name, and from where they come from

EXAMPLE: scrunklyrpblog, single muse, canon, Scrunkly the Mighty ( pokemon mystery dungeon )

to be added in the list!

NOTE: if you have a multimuse blog, feel free to write as many muses as you have; if you have a fandomless OC, specificy that you just have a specific verse or their “title” – and remember to reblog the fandomless masterlist too!

feel free to specify if your muse is canon divergent too!

The Cheshire Cat was once more hidden among the leaves, sprawled on a carefully selected tree branch that allowed it to see most of the world below. It was a day where the air carried no particular gossip with grasping claws nor were there any person, animal, or thing within smell that emitted an intriguing scent. A still day, a quiet day. Even time seem to take great measure in passing by silently, forgoing, for once, its tick-tock motions and flying-by antics. The Cat twisted to its back but the day refused to even make a squeak; the branch itself did not creak.

"My, dear me," it said, finally shattering the heavy silence it was watching. Silence can only hold its interest for so long. "I see no one but I have already conversed with no one. Dear brain, who else may I talk to?"

The Cat paused to let its brain conjure some reason, some sort of plausible answer. Silence took this as an opportunity to regain its hold on the day but it was swiftly flung away by the Cat's paw before it even tried.

don't expect these to be on time. they will not be. but i'm going to do it anyway.

1.) Describe your character’s relationship with their mother or their father, or both. Was it good? Bad? Were they spoiled rotten, ignored? Do they still get along now, or no?

FFFF, which parents do you want? Until she was reunited with them, her relationship with her birth parents was non-existant. Since discovering each other, they've been incredibly close, in my opinion, though Rapunzel would still be quite hesitant to go to them for things because she'd just be so nervous, though it would go from strength to strength, minus her near constant kidnappings.

Gothel, however, is a completely different kettle of fish. Rapunzel would have trusted her completely, given her heart and soul to her, despite Gothel's emotionally abusive behavior, which reminds me of Munchhausen by Proxy, where you deliberately keep someone ill in order to take care of them, in this case, it being an obsession with Rapunzel's hair leading Gothel to continually belittle and undermine her. Mother Knows Best says it all, both the original song and the reprise, though the reprise also reminds me of Gothel sinking into purely abusive territory - "you want me to be the bad guy?" anyone? Rapunzel would have utterly trusted her, and though she wasn't spoiled, she'd've been happy. Minus the whole locked in a tower part.

She was so sore, so tired and so sick, half mad with isolation and hunger, and the grief that seized her every time she thought of Eugene, which was every waking second. There was nothing but darkness and the odd flickering candle whenever one of the shipmates brought down a small, meagre meal for her and the horrible taste of vomit in the back of her throat and the constant smell of it from the small pail which she continually threw up into, stomach constantly churning on the rough and stormy waters of this sea. The muttering she heard from the sailors who brought her food, and occassionally water to wash with, told her that they had been delayed because of weather, and when she asked how long they had been at sea for, she was shocked to find it nearly two months; she had lost sense of time when locked in the dark underbelly of the ship, and the month and a half she had spent either sleeping, crying, or being sick had all blurred into one never-ending haze. When they had at last come for her, to carry her to her prison, she could no longer fight anymore - the tall man with the frightening face ordered the smaller man who had once been masked to carry her up, and she was afraid of his strength as he had easily slung her over his shoulder and climbed steps after steps. Her eyes had watered, but not leaked, not until she had been set down in a room that was apparently her own.

The walls were stone, and the floor wood, but it was new wood, with a fresh smell, unlike the wooden flooring outside. The tall man cut her bonds, freeing her hands and feet, and she rubbed at them where the rope had chafed her, red welts in the skin. Looking up at him as he watched her, she felt almost afraid, unsure of what he would do to her.

"You look nothing like your mother." he remarked as his harsh eyes roved over her, and a sneer appeared on his face. "At least you are obedient. This room was constructed especially for you, and it's surely spacious enough. New clothes will be sent for you, but you've been left this for now, and you may wash. Gothel will wish to see you soon. Quasimodo will keep you company - and I assure you my dear, should you try and escape, you will be punished. If you don't fall out of the tower first. Quasimodo will ensure your stay is comfortable. Change first. We'll visit later."

For a second, staring up at his frightful face, fear struck her heart. And then he turned and swept away, closing the door behind her, leaving her alone in the somewhat cold room with only her thoughts for company. Automatically, she stripped out of her soiled and dirty dress, quickly washing and shivering in the cold air before she changed her underclothes and slipped on a rather plain grey and blue dress, shrugging on a grey jacket-esque wrap. Slipping her feet into some too big grey slippers, she took a deep breath and pushed open the door to explore her new home, spotting the man who had carried her up the stairs into her new prison. Huddling into her wrap and holding it closed with one hand, feeling her wedding ring as she clenched her fist, her eyes filled up with tears once more as she thought of the man she left behind before she turned to this new stranger who was to be her gaoler.

Yes, everyone is indeed mad. All equally mad.