#stormbrained

“—excuse me?”

eyes peer up, at once curious and wary. the child can only imagine what he looks like— having traveled through the woods alone for ( what has it been? weeks? months? ) some time with only the plants and animals to provide both company and sustainability. curls are inhabited by twigs and leaves, skin smudged and fingernails caked with dirt. but now that he’s nearing the outskirts of the closest city, ben can admit to himself he needs someone to shadow in order to pass through safely and pick up some supplies with the few coins he still has. 

this stranger happens to be the first to pass by the main road he’d been haunting the edges of, or at least the first that was traveling in the right direction. hopes aren’t high that a traveler would help him out of nobility, human kindness is too foreign to him for that, but perhaps a trade of some kind could suffice?

random chaos (always accepting) / @stormbrained

memes for roleplay muns: accepting!

9. have you ever written fanfictions?

yes, i have! i wrote really cringe one-shots when i was like 11, and then my first multi-chapter when i was 14 i think. i don't know how well they aged, it's been a while since i've reread them, but they're still up in ff.net somewhere 😭😭😭

22. are there any red roleplay flags for you that make you back off immediately?

i wrote a lot in the asoiaf rpc. i think i spent my time there the most out of any fandom i've been in, and i like to think that i am fairly familiar with the source material. so when someone starts justifying and romanticizing the incest in those books, i'm gone. i'm not interested in seeing it or enabling it even by association. the authorial intent behind it seems very clear if only people are paying attention ( it is not meant to be a good thing!!! ), and there are ways to frame it critically, bur writing it explicitly is not one of those ways.

25. one thing you’d like new roleplayers to know?

" Yes. " The answer is simple, honest. No hint of hesitation and no hiding from the truth of it. Her reply may only be one word, but it's weighted by so many others, so many confessions, so much of her past caught between shame and righteous anger. She's killed for lesser crimes than love. ( And she would again. )

May their Saints forgive her.

She searches her cousin's face, his new mood unfamiliar and his expression indecipherable. They often feel more like strangers than near siblings and most days, she can't find a trace of his old cheeky smile or his heavy, affectionate sigh before he'd take the blame for their mischief. She misses those days, the simplicity of sweet-filled pockets and dares atop the high wire. Now they're both burdened by blood and worse, which is evidently weighing on Teddy's mind.