Role-play 1011. IntroductionRole-play 1017 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
Welcome. I've been wanting to do this for quite some time now and only now I found the time and patience to write this. This is supposed to be a guide and help anyone who wants to know how to Role-play, which is commonly referred to as RP. But first, I want to clear up some things. I'm not doing this out of arrogance or to show that I am superior in any way. I've been around the chat rooms and I've seen a lot of people that do not know how to RP. Some of them are newbies, some are n00bs, yet most people in chat rooms don't make any differences between them. Therefor, since no one will help them, I decided to do something about this. It's a general guideline which contains the basis of RPing. You can choose to follow this or not and I hope that it will help both people that don't know how to RP at all and those that need some 'working' on their skills. Also, I do not consider myself the best RPer of the world or God's gift to RPing. I have my flaws, but I also wan
White Chocolate Coconut Cookies RecipeWhite Chocolate Coconut Cookies Recipe3 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
1 cup butter (stick kind)
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon honey
1 cup shredded coconut
2 cups flour
1/2 bag of white chocolate chips or chunks
Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
Take the butter and place in a microwave-safe bowl. Heat until soft, or melted.
Add the butter, sugars, eggs, baking soda, salt, honey, and vanilla together in a large mixing bowl. Mix until well blended, perferably with an electric mixer, but a large spoon will also do. Add the coconut. Mix until blended. Then mix in the flour, one cup at a time, until blended. Then add the chocolate.
Spray a cookie sheet with non-stick cooking spray, then add a cereal spoonful of the cookie dough, arranged in 3X4 rows. Place in the oven, and cook for 9-10 minutes. The cookies will be done when their edges turn a golden-brown color. But if you want to play it safe, stick a toothpick into one of the cookies. If it comes out clean, t
Under DreadThe winter, the whole winterUnder Dread3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is sitting on my head, nesting its fingers
in the little hairs over my ears.
Its friend, the great and unnamed doubt,
is leaning against my collarbone
in a most familiar fashion,
and I fall in and out of balance
I have a beauty waiting, warm, willing
on speed dial, but the phone--
where did I leave the phone again?
Beauty is as elusive as
the car keys, which, I swear,
were just in that pocket. I
had my hand on them. The whole winter
keeps coursing its little nails
up and down my neck and taking
all my breath away.
There was a dream I had that
I almost remember, almost remember better
than living yesterday, a dream
of gooey loss, a taffy sorrow that loomed,
loomed, loomed, you see? It was so real,
I just had it.
PilotI woke in a nest of wires, my arms pulled off to either side, my head back and my eyes fixed at the ceiling. There was a man standing above me, straddling my form, perched precariously at the mouth of the recess I was tucked away in, one hand gripping the frame, the other feeling around the back of my neck. He moved by touch alone, certain in his movements, and his fingers closed over the knot of the wires that resided at the base of my skull and pulled, steadily, drawing it out of the socket and I inhaled sharply at the sensation. Like something had been taken from me, or that I'd lost sight of something important. A piece of me gone. It was a keen sense of loss and my eyes went wet with moisture even as he dropped his hand lower along my neck, almost to the shoulders, and pulled out another plug. The wires by my eyes were thinner, and when he pulled these out my vision went black for a moment and when it returned I felt the world was less clear, like a gray haze had been pulledPilot2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Fresh Start ch10Fresh Start ch104 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I was frozen. I couldn't move, I couldn't think, I couldn't speak. I stared at the boy who seemed to be in the same state I was in. He had the same soft green hair and dark green eyes I remembered, except his hair was shorter. He was the first to snap out of the shock. Gumo glared at me darkly.
"What are YOU doing here?!" he demanded.
I bit my lip. There were over thousands of things I could say but my voice still wasn't working yet. Gumi glanced from me to Gumo and raised an eyebrow. She opened her mouth to say something but Gumo cut her off with another outburst.
"Why are you here!? I haven't done anything wrong have I? Counsel gonna chop off my head for 6 years ago now too?! Do I really need more suffering?!?" Now everyone looked surprised and confused. Couldn't blame them. Beheading went out of style like 500 years ago in the human world.
"HOLD UP! Gumo w
Elf vs. Orc 9Sings-to-Trees' head shot up. He knew Fleabane's barks like the back of his hand. Short, rapid barks, not grating, hysterical ones--somewhere between a greeting and a warning. Fleabane knew the person approaching, but he didn't really like them.Elf vs. Orc 99 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
That meant it was either one of the humans from down the road (excepting Matilda, who brought cheeses and always had a tidbit for a hungry coyote) or the rangers.
"Shit!" Sings-to-Trees leapt to his feet and began kicking Celadon's armor under the bed, followed by the extra blankets.
Celadon got unsteadily to her feet. "What is it?"
"Company. Might be rangers."
She could have asked questions, like "Are you going to turn me in?" or "Why are you panicking, if they're your people?" but Celadon was not inclined to waste time on stupid questions. She looked around hurriedly for a hiding place.
Sings-to-Trees caught her elbow. "Do you trust me?"
"Does it matter?"
"I suppose not."
Getting her into the hiding place was awkward, but Celadon took it in s
Escape VelocityF = G(m1m2)/r2Escape Velocity3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Black – true black – is the absence of light. Darkness is defined by what it is not, by the lack of something else. When we say a black hole, we truly mean that; black. Blacker than black. An absence of not only light, but of time, distance, anything.
The night was scary when I was little. I hated the dark, but couldn’t bear to sleep so long as the light was on, any light, burning on the other side of my eyelids. I used to have nightmares about dark things in dark corners, shadowy figures with shadowy fingers trailing along my spine. I always woke up cold and fumbling frantically for the lamp, but the aura of light just made the shadows deeper and I turned it off quickly.
Black holes are dead stars. Graves. Tombs that bury light, bury it so deep, swallow entire suns, planets, galaxies. Dead stars take all the light with them like rich men spending fortunes on alabaster monuments and marble headstones.
There are four unmarked graves
Anything.We waited in silence,Anything.3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
For a sound.
But nothing ever happened,
And no one ever came.
We waited for him.
But he never came.
A long plane ride in bitter silence,
Left alone with a crushing reality.
He was never coming home.
And we realize that no amount of wishin will bring him back to us.
But still we wait.
Wondering if he watches us or turns away in shame?
Wondering if he's proud of who we became?
Wondering if he will visit our dreams anymore?
And we wait in silence.
For a sound.
The BoyOnce upon,The Boy6 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
so back in time,
I met a boy
so fun, so bright
He made me laugh,
he span me round
We got on well
Oh dear! What a sound!
But he was gone
No feelings hurt,
was just a flirt
All was well,
friends we still were
But gods were watching
so cruel, so naughty
the boy I met once again
this time to be more than flirt
He was happy
and so was I,
such a joy
hard to come by
He whispered softly,
made me dream
And what a dream,
it was to be
He made me hope
and long and care
as long as it lasted
Oh gods! I dare!
But gods were cruel
and he was gone
No time to spare,
I was a heft,
the hope crashed,
the dream; it burned
This time it hurt,
no more a flirt,
the darkness came
and tears; such shame
I saw him again,
in the arms of another
Words cannot tell
how I recovered
Years went by,
the boy was gone
But gods were watching,
we couldn't move on
A present they gave
to our hearts both
our paths crossed
our fates; one oath
once again the boy I met
he had grown; now a man
this time he's different
Elf vs. Orc 7This was easier said than done.Elf vs. Orc 79 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
She gave him some very practical suggestions about how to tie the ropes. A bit of slack between the feet, enough to shuffle, not enough to run. A rope around the neck as a kind of leash in case she attacked him. He could tell she'd done this sort of thing before.
Sings-to-Trees, at that point, would have been happy just untying her completely and pointing her in the direction of the outhouse, but he had a horrible feeling he'd disappoint her if he didn't at least try to hold up his end. So he steeled himself to stay awake a bit longer and got the ropes set up, and hauled her out of the bed.
Then she wound up needing to use him as a crutch anyway, since her knees kept buckling, so it was a bit of a moot point.
"Can you hold this?" he asked, handing her the leash rope after a few brutal hops toward the door.
"What if I try to escape?"
He sighed. "Just yank it if you feel yourself getting any ideas."
She started laughing, then they took another step and the
If You Went AwayIf You Went Away3 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
if you went
no one left
His Butler, ExposedHis Butler, Exposed4 years ago in Drama More Like This
Finally, after week and weeks of waiting and months of recovering the Phantomhive household seemed to be back to normal. Well, as normal as normal could be. The maid scurried about knocking over dishes and cleaning up her mess, the cook was busy perfecting his flam thrower techniques, the gardener contently snipping away at the trees and the butler by his master's side as he should be.
Ciel scribbles his name on yet another black line, completing the latest transaction with a supplier in Asia. He plucks his pen down, enjoying the sound as it hits the desk signifying a day of work finished. The young earl reclines back into his chair shutting his eyes for a brief moment of rest, glad to have earned it. How hectic his life has become in the few months he's encountered the Queen's Spider, Alois Trancy and his double crossing butler, Claude Fastus-a fellow demon like his own butler, Sebastian Michaelis.
Lately everything seemed like it was crumbling beneath his feet, the chessboard that ha
my grandmother had a blanket of galaxiesmy grandmother once told me that if i gathered allmy grandmother had a blanket of galaxies2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the stars in the midnight sky, i could sew them into
a giant blanket of galaxies for lovers to make wishes on.
this is what you do with your hands:
learn the same language my grandmother did all those
years prior to this moment of steam and shake.
come daybreak, we collapse into each other with the
sort of stumbling that my grandmother warned me of.
foolish hands know no boundaries, she would say.
thank God that i am boundless, finding you with probing fingers,
your shoulders a make-shift ladder i climbed to catch
just an inkling of heaven on the tip of my tongue.
if every i love you we whispered
into the gentle morning's ear
brought us closer together,
we would become each other.
folding until we are one:
nothing but a crease of constellations
on my grandmother's blanket.
Elf vs. Orc 6He got a nasty start a few hours later, when he came in to check on her.Elf vs. Orc 69 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
He'd tied her hands, her feet, thrown a loop or two around her waist, and roped everything to the bed, the chair, and the fire iron, just for good measure, He'd done everything short of hog-tying. She wasn't going to get loose in a hurry.
He wasn't sure why he was bothering, really, since he had a horrible feeling that if she said "Will you untie me?" he might do it, and if she said "please," he'd definitely do it.
Still, she didn't seem to be a threat conscious, so maybe that was okay.
Then, because his feelings were still churning and there was nothing for emotional turmoil like hard work, he'd gone off, fed the chickens and the gargoyle, picked peas, turned the compost heap, washed his hands and made soup. By the end, he was really quite exhausted, and ready for at least a nap in his chair.
Then he came back in to discover that her fever had vanished and she was shivering violently with cold.
Elf vs. Orc 5Sings-to-Trees's primary thought through the whole violent encounter was Not the throat again!Elf vs. Orc 59 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
His neck hurt. He felt like a troll had used his esophagus as a dance floor. This could not be healthy. If he lived through this, he swore he would be nice to his throat for the rest of the year. Hot teas. Scarfs during winter. Anything.
For awhile, he didn't think he was going to live to see sunrise, let alone winter.
Then she'd apologized. The orc had stood there, with a distinctly sheepish expression on her face, and she'd apologized.
None of his patients ever apologized. Most of them couldn't talk, and it didn't seem to occur to the ones who could.
Half of him wanted to reply automatically—No, it's okay, these things happen, don't worry about it—and the other half was jumping up and down screaming You just tried to kill me, you green-faced lunatic! You can't just apologize for trying to kill people!
Perhaps fortunately, his throat was aching too badly
A Guide to Writing Combat-Related Mental IllnessComing Back from Combat: A Writer’s Guide to Combat Related Psychological Illness in FictionA Guide to Writing Combat-Related Mental Illness2 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
The aim of this guide is simple: plenty of people want to write about war, to explore it, to understand it and understand soldiers they know who are in it or have come from it. But, often times putting the aftermath, the pain, and the psychological impact war has on the mind into words is difficult to do well.
This guide exists to help fiction writers accurately portray psychological disorders in their work, because the people who suffer from these disorders and their loved ones deserve honesty and do not deserve to be misrepresented. The guide is here to help writers understand how these disorders come about, how they are treated, and how to think critically about how they might impact the person who has them.
1. A disclaimer, and polemics.
2. Why are you writing a psychological illness into your story?
3. Terms you should be familiar with for this
Elf vs. Orc 3Sings-to-Trees was being strangled.Elf vs. Orc 39 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
He'd always expected a patient to kill him some day, but he'd thought he would be a lot older, and it would be an angry bull or a careless moment with a manticore or something along those lines, with an outside chance of being crushed under a nearsighted troll. He really hadn't anticipated anything like this.
The orc had been giggling to herself for a few minutes, and when he tried to talk to her, she only giggled harder. He didn't know if she could speak any of the languages, or if she was so delirious that she wasn't even hearing him. He had no real idea what the normal temperature for an orc was, but her skin burned against his fingers, and if he had to guess, he'd say she was running quite a high fever.
There was something very surreal about a giggling orc. It wasn't malicious, like when pixies left flaming piles of pixie-crap on your doorstep and hid to watch you step in it. This was a throaty, genuinely amused chuckle—reduced to a s
flashbacks[i can feel yourflashbacks3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
shaking, against the
begging for that
[i can see
adding to my
painted all over, my
[i can taste
dancing, around my
[i can hear
waiting, for the
Recipe: Lightning Chocolate CakeRecipe: Lightning Chocolate Cake3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
'Ey, nice ta see yew folks again! This time I got one'uh my pers'nal fav'rites for ya: th' fastest dang chocolate cake yew ever made from scratch! Well, I mean, it takes a while ta bake an' all, but it only takes 'bout ten minutes ta throw t'gether.
Preheat yer oven ta 375 degrees. Fahrenheit a'course.
You will need:
~3 cups flour, sifted
~2 cups sugar
~2 teaspoons baking soda
~2/3 cup cocoa powder, not th' Dutch kind, th' regular.
~5/8 cup corn oil... What kinda measurement is that? Call it half a cup.
~1 tablespoon cider vinegar, or white vinegar if ya don't have th' cider kind.
~1 tablespoon vanilla extract
~2 cups medium-strong coffee, caffeinated or not
~Yew c'n add stuff like chocolate chips, nuts, fruit or whatever ya want!
Okay, seriously, all ya gotta do is sift th' dry stuff t'gether, mix in th' liquids an' pour it inta a greased bakin' dish. This'n fills an 8x12" pan. Then ya chuck it in th' oven fer 35-40 minutes. Yew c'n tell it's done if ya stick a skewer in it an' it com
The Door of Our Cottage in the Western NightThey began on the beach, and a fire was raging upon the waters. A fire on one side of the world and one around the other. The earth had been unbruised, like an apple on a string, and then two stones had struck within a month, and everything had burned, slagged by deep space arrows. The wind was terrible. Everywhere was a howl with no direction.The Door of Our Cottage in the Western Night4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
There were a few lichen-like communities in damp places, where the sky had steamed by but seared little, lifted ravines and streams from the land, unwrinkled it, dragon braille revealed only in fire. There were a few who had been underground, and a few in the inland seas and lakes, a few in the deeper rivers, a few on the moon, watching it go.
The moon was hit four weeks later, and there were no lunatic survivors.
Once again, we were alone. The world had been smoked and there was a smell of it everywhere, and we walked on the remains of the crater's basin lake. It was involute
Was It All A DreamWas It All A DreamWas It All A Dream8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Why do you keep me so confused?
Why do you like playing these games with my mind?
Can't you see how much I care?
Don't you know how badly I want you in my life?
How much I need you?
Or has it been all just been pretend for you?
Your words hurt me so much today;
They tore right through my heart,
Leaving my gasping for air,
And you didn't even realize it...
Or maybe you did and just didn't care.
I opened up a heart that I had sheltered for so long,
Gave of myself wholly to you, all barriers totally gone...
Told you things I have never shared with another,
Bared my soul to one whom I though I could trust,
Just to have you tear it apart.
I tried really hard to get you to see,
How much you truly mean to me,
How you have engraved yourself in my heart,
How I have needed you from the very start.
The poems I have written have always been for you...
Each sentence, every word were always sincere.
It came from a place that has been waiting for someone special,
Wishing and hoping
Elf vs. Orc 8Celadon woke up in the elf's arms.Elf vs. Orc 89 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
This sounded a lot more romantic than it actually was.
For one thing, learning to sleep in proximity to another person is an acquired skill. You learn what to do with the arm that always seems to get stuck between you and where to put your feet and whether they mind having a leg draped over theirs and who can use whose arm as a pillow without nerve damage or a sore neck. Then there's the whole complex negotiation of blanket treaties and sheets and who gets what and who needs layers and who has to stick their feet out.
Without acquiring these vital habits, you wake up pretty much like Celadon—stiff, sore, with a knee wedged into your ribs and blankets tangled around both of them like sleeping anacondas.
While it's traditional when parties of the opposite sex find themselves entangled for someone's hands to be in an embarrassing position, that actually wasn't the case. She was pretty much in the elf's lap, where one of his knees was up and digging into
SexualityThe hurtful stares,Sexuality6 years ago in Open More Like This
The burning laughs,
Am I really that different?
Does it matter who I like,
Whether it be boys, girls, or both?
I live every day,
Being hated, despised,
For something I was born with.
What disease plagues me so?
What makes them hate?
To you, I am a leper.
I am a freak with no worth.
A godless heathen,
I refuse my titles,
As Romeo did to Juliet...
Or rather, Romeo to Benvolio?
Yes, that seems more fitting.
I love my fellow women,
More than most others.
Does that make me wrong?
Will I be forgiven by God?
To be honest,
I don't care about anyone's opinion,
Let alone God's.