A Guide to dA's Dangerverse This is the Dangerverse on deviantART, the corner where anything and everything related—and perhaps some things that are not so related—to Gerard’s Danger Days concept is roleplayed.A Guide to dA's Dangerverse7 months ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
First of all, I understand that most people in the Dangerverse RP (roleplay) for fun, and to relieve stress, etc., and I don’t mean to be presumptuous and tell people how to roleplay, but there is a point where casual intentions are overreached, and the RP just becomes a drag.
I’ve already brushed over the more basic points here, but I will most probably reiterate, and this time in more depth. I am also mostly going to be using the male pronoun throughout this article when referring impersonally, because repeating “his/her” or “he/she,” etc., is not only inconveniencing for myself but also hard on the readers.
And so, we go:
In relation to the Da
A Ratio of Success Blip. Blip. Blip . . .A Ratio of Success6 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Wires draped lazily across the shadowed room, linking a collection of assorted machinery to a single hospital bed standing at the heart of the orderly chaos.
Blip . . .
The off-white walls had been polished to the point where they reflected multicolored LED lights from the machines as they performed their various functions—some silently, and some not so silently.
A large pane of glass set in one of the walls shone softly, cleanly—and transparently, for the two white-smocked figures observing from the opposite side. The shorter woman scribbled idly on a loosely-held clipboard as the other, a raven-haired man, provided life to a mostly one-sided conversation.
“. . . to that convention with the bakers, last week, and—you should’ve been there—it was like I’d just stepped into Better Living Heaven. There was this—this smorgasbord of baked goods, and I was there for the better par
SuicideThere's no blood on her handsSuicide7 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Bullet holes in the door
Nothing but colored pills
And her lying on the floor
You look at her face
There's despair in her eyes
And you wonder what she thought
As she fell and died
And maybe you're begging her to come back
And maybe you're asking why she let go
The hurt in your chest feels like a heart attack
And now you finally know
Maybe you could've helped her
If you'd looked past your own nose
Maybe she'd be alive now
You had a chance, this is what you chose
Now maybe you'll learn from things
That you didn't see
Maybe you'll open your eyes
And rescue him, or her, or me
Maybe she cried a prayer
For the others as she died
About the kids in their darkest hours
She lies white in her coffin
Right next to her grave
The tears are pouring down
But you're trying to be brave
And her best friend stands
With tears in her eyes
And she points at you all
Full of fury, and cries
Maybe you're begging her to come back
And maybe you're asking why she