filloryandfurther
The world is quiet here
＆ ▬ whatever the hell we want
HELLO!
Okay so this show is amazing and i need to roleplay it like now. my name's alicia, i'm way
too old for this site, trust me. i'm currently unemployed so i'm around during the week,
not as much on the weekends. generally you'll get a post a day from me, probably
multiple. but trust me, you do not have to match me on this. i promise. whatever works
for you!
PREFERENCES
▪ please be 18+.
▪ email = tumblr > pms > thread
▪ i play male and/or female characters
▪ i prefer to play one main character and NPC the hell out of things.
▪ but i will double with canon x oc pairings if you'd like!
▪ i'm good with m/m, m/f, f/f. throw it all at me
▪ quality > quantity. my replies range from 300-500 words, depending on the situation
▪ but seriously, roleplaying is for fun, and i don't have length requirements or anything
▪ just give me something to work with and reply to, ya dig?
▪ i'll leave some samples below to give you an idea of my writing style!
▪ a lot of these are intros, so they're a bit longer than my typical replies
For Tony, it all happened in slow motion.
It had been the same when he'd seen the bomb with his name on it in the desert. The same when he'd been flying through the sky above New York, and then space, endless cold and stars and death. Like the world had forgotten the meaning of seconds and minutes and everything existed in a kind of stasis. The initial power outage wasn't enough to raise concern. It wasn't until the emergency power flickered, died, came back, then died again that Tony knew something was seriously, horribly wrong. Loki grabbed hold of him, a rush of magic went down his spine, and then the room was tilting, things were falling, people in the hall were yelling -
The Helicarrier was going down in darkness, and this time Tony knew he couldn't do anything about it. There was no way to get the blades spinning again, a fact made obvious when one of those very propellers came crashing through the room, missing them only through Loki's quick thinking. Metal on metal, shrieking from both people and machinery. They were falling. They were falling and they were going to crash and people were going to die. For a moment Tony couldn't even hear Loki, the gravity of the situation overwhelming him, swallowing him whole. This wasn't something he could stop. This wasn't-
Pepper.
It was this thought that brought reality back in rushing clarity. Tony moved then, grabbing pieces of his suit, fitting them together, slicing his hand on the sharp edges but feeling no pain. It wasn't until he was reaching for the reactor when he realized that it was no longer glowing. It was dead. His suit was dead, just like the Helicarrier. This realization threatened to shut him down again, cripple his resolve. They were falling quickly now, the clouds whipping past the window, and soon the darkness would be total. "My suit doesn't work," he said through numb lips, turning to face Loki and seeing only a dim outline. "It doesn't-" The Eye. Without thinking about it, Tony reached forward, hand closing around the object in Loki's pocket, and thinking Pepper. Get me to Pepper. Get us to Pepper.
The sensation of being squeezed, chest compressed so much so that Tony could hardly take a breath, his hand all but welded to Loki's shoulder. Then they were in another room, and in the light coming through the window Tony could see Pepper on the ground, hand to her head, her expression confused, dazed. One side of her face was covered in blood. "Hey, Pep." It was quieter here, though in the distance Tony could hear rending metal, everything breaking, failing. Pepper looked up at her name, though there wasn't much comprehension in her expression. Tony took a step towards her when the room began to shift. A desk slid across the floor, and Pepper could only watch it with wide eyes as it came racing towards her. She tried to move but cried out in pain, clutching at her leg. Time slowed once more, seconds losing their meaning, and Tony lunged forward, putting himself between Pepper and the desk. It was heavy, solid wood and metal, but he managed to divert its course enough so it smashed harmlessly against the opposite wall. "I've gotcha, Pep. Don't worry. Everything will be fine."
Outside the window, Tony could see the city. It was growing closer. He got back to his feet, steadied himself, and reached out for Pepper. She took his hand, tried to stand, and fell back with a groan of agony. "I know you hate being the damsel in distress," Tony said as he leaned down, scooping Pepper up and wishing his suit wasn't so horribly uncomfortable. "But you're just gonna have to suck it up and deal." The room tilted again, and there came a sudden, wrenching noise from deep inside the Helicarrier. Tony held Pepper close to his chest, carefully making his way back towards Loki. "Get us out of here. Now."
It had been the same when he'd seen the bomb with his name on it in the desert. The same when he'd been flying through the sky above New York, and then space, endless cold and stars and death. Like the world had forgotten the meaning of seconds and minutes and everything existed in a kind of stasis. The initial power outage wasn't enough to raise concern. It wasn't until the emergency power flickered, died, came back, then died again that Tony knew something was seriously, horribly wrong. Loki grabbed hold of him, a rush of magic went down his spine, and then the room was tilting, things were falling, people in the hall were yelling -
The Helicarrier was going down in darkness, and this time Tony knew he couldn't do anything about it. There was no way to get the blades spinning again, a fact made obvious when one of those very propellers came crashing through the room, missing them only through Loki's quick thinking. Metal on metal, shrieking from both people and machinery. They were falling. They were falling and they were going to crash and people were going to die. For a moment Tony couldn't even hear Loki, the gravity of the situation overwhelming him, swallowing him whole. This wasn't something he could stop. This wasn't-
Pepper.
It was this thought that brought reality back in rushing clarity. Tony moved then, grabbing pieces of his suit, fitting them together, slicing his hand on the sharp edges but feeling no pain. It wasn't until he was reaching for the reactor when he realized that it was no longer glowing. It was dead. His suit was dead, just like the Helicarrier. This realization threatened to shut him down again, cripple his resolve. They were falling quickly now, the clouds whipping past the window, and soon the darkness would be total. "My suit doesn't work," he said through numb lips, turning to face Loki and seeing only a dim outline. "It doesn't-" The Eye. Without thinking about it, Tony reached forward, hand closing around the object in Loki's pocket, and thinking Pepper. Get me to Pepper. Get us to Pepper.
The sensation of being squeezed, chest compressed so much so that Tony could hardly take a breath, his hand all but welded to Loki's shoulder. Then they were in another room, and in the light coming through the window Tony could see Pepper on the ground, hand to her head, her expression confused, dazed. One side of her face was covered in blood. "Hey, Pep." It was quieter here, though in the distance Tony could hear rending metal, everything breaking, failing. Pepper looked up at her name, though there wasn't much comprehension in her expression. Tony took a step towards her when the room began to shift. A desk slid across the floor, and Pepper could only watch it with wide eyes as it came racing towards her. She tried to move but cried out in pain, clutching at her leg. Time slowed once more, seconds losing their meaning, and Tony lunged forward, putting himself between Pepper and the desk. It was heavy, solid wood and metal, but he managed to divert its course enough so it smashed harmlessly against the opposite wall. "I've gotcha, Pep. Don't worry. Everything will be fine."
Outside the window, Tony could see the city. It was growing closer. He got back to his feet, steadied himself, and reached out for Pepper. She took his hand, tried to stand, and fell back with a groan of agony. "I know you hate being the damsel in distress," Tony said as he leaned down, scooping Pepper up and wishing his suit wasn't so horribly uncomfortable. "But you're just gonna have to suck it up and deal." The room tilted again, and there came a sudden, wrenching noise from deep inside the Helicarrier. Tony held Pepper close to his chest, carefully making his way back towards Loki. "Get us out of here. Now."
The morning at the market was slow, as Lyra had expected. But she had no complaints; the tedium gave her an opportunity to catch snatches of conversation as people drifted by, glancing at her wares without stopping. Lothal was part of the Outer Rim Territories, and not many ventured to its far-flung location. Yet that didn't stop the small planet from attracting some unique visitors; one could come across rare items not usually found on the inner planets. Which meant that every time Lyra visited the market she saw someone new, as well as the regulars who owned farms around her.
For the better part of the morning Lyra sold the occasional vegetable or seeds, and kept her ear open for idly gossip at the same time. Most of the time she didn't mind the fact that she had never left her home planet, content to know only her little plot of land and this small town nearby. It was only when she heard the talk of far-flung places, of grand battles and sparkling cities that Lyra felt this ache to see it all. But then she'd hear someone complaining of famine, or slaughter, and she'd be grateful for her simple life.
Right now, Lyra was trying to listen it to a pair of older women as they toddled by. Their skin was a deep blue, and there were raised lines along their arms, swirling patterns that Lyra supposed must mean something to them. She was leaning against her cart, arms folded across her chest, head cocked towards them.
"-heard him say it was the Resistance, and do you know who it's led by?"
"No, who?"
"Princess Leia, can you believe it? Word is they're searching for Skywalker..."
The two women drifted away, and only then did Lyra notice she had a customer. She straightened, cleared her throat, and looked at what the girl was pointing to. "Sorry. They're three credits each. Freshly harvested this morning, so you won't go home only to find them rotting tomorrow." The girl was vaguely familiar with the scars lining her face, but no one Lyra had spoken to before. Her mind was still mostly on what the women had been discussing, how those words had stirred up a memory from her childhood.
For the better part of the morning Lyra sold the occasional vegetable or seeds, and kept her ear open for idly gossip at the same time. Most of the time she didn't mind the fact that she had never left her home planet, content to know only her little plot of land and this small town nearby. It was only when she heard the talk of far-flung places, of grand battles and sparkling cities that Lyra felt this ache to see it all. But then she'd hear someone complaining of famine, or slaughter, and she'd be grateful for her simple life.
Right now, Lyra was trying to listen it to a pair of older women as they toddled by. Their skin was a deep blue, and there were raised lines along their arms, swirling patterns that Lyra supposed must mean something to them. She was leaning against her cart, arms folded across her chest, head cocked towards them.
"-heard him say it was the Resistance, and do you know who it's led by?"
"No, who?"
"Princess Leia, can you believe it? Word is they're searching for Skywalker..."
The two women drifted away, and only then did Lyra notice she had a customer. She straightened, cleared her throat, and looked at what the girl was pointing to. "Sorry. They're three credits each. Freshly harvested this morning, so you won't go home only to find them rotting tomorrow." The girl was vaguely familiar with the scars lining her face, but no one Lyra had spoken to before. Her mind was still mostly on what the women had been discussing, how those words had stirred up a memory from her childhood.
The ground was nothing like Clarke had imagined it.
She'd drawn it too many times to count, sketches filling the walls of her cell, forests and waterfalls and things she had never seen but had heard about in stories. Impossible things. She'd like to believe them, sure, but in the back of her mind she saw a dead world, everything laid to waste after the bombs and nuclear fallout. And so when she had been strapped in that dropship with ninety-nine other criminals she had been terrified, figuring they'd break up on landing, or they would open the doors and die on the poisonous air. But no, they had survived the landing (well, most of them) and when those doors had opened, Clarke had smelled life instead of death.
Everything had been so green, so alive, at complete odds with the cold, clean lines of the Ark. Clarke had wandered around in a daze those first moments, her senses overwhelmed, her thoughts sluggish after so many days locked up. Too quickly, though, she'd realized that though their landing had been lucky, it was no where near where they should be. Clarke had consulted the map, showed Finn just how far away Mount Weather was, and knew they needed to head there as soon as possible. But darkness had come on quicker than she'd anticipated, and so Clarke and Finn decided to head out in the morning, hoping others would join once they realized the supplies they needed to keep them alive were all the way up another mountain.
The next morning dawned grey and overcast, and Clarke found herself hoping it was a sign of rain. Unless the rain was poison. The thought propelled her out of the dropship, the need to get to Mount Weather trumping her desire to curl back up on her pile of blankets. The first thing she saw was a pile of wristbands, too many of them, and Clarke's thoughts turned to Bellamy Blake. He wasn't supposed to be here, not when he was over eighteen, but his sister had ended up on the drop ship, and somehow he'd gotten a spot too. He had convinced most of the kids to remove their wristbands, that nothing good could come of those still on the Ark knowing they had survived. Clarke had managed to keep hers, as had Finn and a handful of others.
What were they thinking up there, watching their vitals flat-lining? Was her mom worried hers would be next?
"Ready to go?" Finn came to stand next to her, a pack slung over his shoulder, holding out a second. Clarke took it with a grateful nod. "Monty and Jasper want to come with us. I figured we could use all the hands we can get."
"Yeah," Clarke replied with another nod, pulling out her map and compass, turning to face the direction of Mount Weather. "We should get moving if we want to get there before dark." With that she set off, towards the makeshift entrance to the camp; the kids had already started to build a wall out of fallen trees and metal from the drop ship, protection from whatever animals were lurking out there.
But someone was already there, and it was the last person Clarke wanted to see right now. She rolled her eyes as she came to a stop in front of Bellamy, arms crossed over her chest. "What do you want, Bellamy? If you're coming with us, we're leaving right now. If you're staying here, step aside and let us through. You can help the kids gather supplies while we're gone." They'd need food and fresh water until they figured out what state Mount Weather was in, and right now Clarke didn't want to deal with Bellamy's attitude on such a long trek.
She'd drawn it too many times to count, sketches filling the walls of her cell, forests and waterfalls and things she had never seen but had heard about in stories. Impossible things. She'd like to believe them, sure, but in the back of her mind she saw a dead world, everything laid to waste after the bombs and nuclear fallout. And so when she had been strapped in that dropship with ninety-nine other criminals she had been terrified, figuring they'd break up on landing, or they would open the doors and die on the poisonous air. But no, they had survived the landing (well, most of them) and when those doors had opened, Clarke had smelled life instead of death.
Everything had been so green, so alive, at complete odds with the cold, clean lines of the Ark. Clarke had wandered around in a daze those first moments, her senses overwhelmed, her thoughts sluggish after so many days locked up. Too quickly, though, she'd realized that though their landing had been lucky, it was no where near where they should be. Clarke had consulted the map, showed Finn just how far away Mount Weather was, and knew they needed to head there as soon as possible. But darkness had come on quicker than she'd anticipated, and so Clarke and Finn decided to head out in the morning, hoping others would join once they realized the supplies they needed to keep them alive were all the way up another mountain.
The next morning dawned grey and overcast, and Clarke found herself hoping it was a sign of rain. Unless the rain was poison. The thought propelled her out of the dropship, the need to get to Mount Weather trumping her desire to curl back up on her pile of blankets. The first thing she saw was a pile of wristbands, too many of them, and Clarke's thoughts turned to Bellamy Blake. He wasn't supposed to be here, not when he was over eighteen, but his sister had ended up on the drop ship, and somehow he'd gotten a spot too. He had convinced most of the kids to remove their wristbands, that nothing good could come of those still on the Ark knowing they had survived. Clarke had managed to keep hers, as had Finn and a handful of others.
What were they thinking up there, watching their vitals flat-lining? Was her mom worried hers would be next?
"Ready to go?" Finn came to stand next to her, a pack slung over his shoulder, holding out a second. Clarke took it with a grateful nod. "Monty and Jasper want to come with us. I figured we could use all the hands we can get."
"Yeah," Clarke replied with another nod, pulling out her map and compass, turning to face the direction of Mount Weather. "We should get moving if we want to get there before dark." With that she set off, towards the makeshift entrance to the camp; the kids had already started to build a wall out of fallen trees and metal from the drop ship, protection from whatever animals were lurking out there.
But someone was already there, and it was the last person Clarke wanted to see right now. She rolled her eyes as she came to a stop in front of Bellamy, arms crossed over her chest. "What do you want, Bellamy? If you're coming with us, we're leaving right now. If you're staying here, step aside and let us through. You can help the kids gather supplies while we're gone." They'd need food and fresh water until they figured out what state Mount Weather was in, and right now Clarke didn't want to deal with Bellamy's attitude on such a long trek.
A rumble of thunder rolled across the sky; thank god for the storm. It would cover any tracks they might have left behind, and no officers would want to be patrolling in this kind of weather. It put a damper on Alex's powers, but it wasn't like he was completely helpless on his own. He'd picked up some hand-to-hand combat skills; fire wasn't always readily available, after all. Alex glanced over at the kid when he spoke, giving his head a brief shake. "Nah, I'm good." Then he tilted his head, raising a brow in curiosity. "You're not used to this, are you? Running from cops. Dealing with them at all." He'd been planning on waiting a few more minutes, regaining his breath, before leaving the kid to his own devices. But then Alex heard the growling of his stomach, saw the fear in his eyes, and changed his mind.
Because if there was one thing he hated more than taking on dead weight, it was cops shooting at a defenseless kid. Well, maybe he wasn't exactly defenseless, but he'd been crouching in an alleyway, facing down people who had been willing to shoot him. And one of them had mentioned Sentinel Services, which meant that this kid wasn't exactly normal.
With a sigh, Alex pulled out a new cigarette, using his almost-finished one to light the new one. He must have dropped his lighter when they'd been running, and right now he didn't want to be without a source he could draw from. He stood, offering his hand to the kid to pull him to his feet. "I'll take you back to my place. It's nothing fancy, but it's dry. Out of the way." His lips quirked into a smirk. "It's got food, which I'm guessing you haven't had very much of lately."
He moved towards one of the side doors, peering out into the rain. No signs of flashing lights or patrol cars slowly rolling down the street. Alex glanced back at the kid, motioning him forward. "And to answer your question yeah, they're always like that. When it comes to our kind, at least." He paused. "You are a mutant, right? Because I heard one of those assholes mention Sentinel Services, and they don't call those guys for any human criminal, at least not that I've heard of." But they had no problem going after those with the X-gene. Not at all.
Because if there was one thing he hated more than taking on dead weight, it was cops shooting at a defenseless kid. Well, maybe he wasn't exactly defenseless, but he'd been crouching in an alleyway, facing down people who had been willing to shoot him. And one of them had mentioned Sentinel Services, which meant that this kid wasn't exactly normal.
With a sigh, Alex pulled out a new cigarette, using his almost-finished one to light the new one. He must have dropped his lighter when they'd been running, and right now he didn't want to be without a source he could draw from. He stood, offering his hand to the kid to pull him to his feet. "I'll take you back to my place. It's nothing fancy, but it's dry. Out of the way." His lips quirked into a smirk. "It's got food, which I'm guessing you haven't had very much of lately."
He moved towards one of the side doors, peering out into the rain. No signs of flashing lights or patrol cars slowly rolling down the street. Alex glanced back at the kid, motioning him forward. "And to answer your question yeah, they're always like that. When it comes to our kind, at least." He paused. "You are a mutant, right? Because I heard one of those assholes mention Sentinel Services, and they don't call those guys for any human criminal, at least not that I've heard of." But they had no problem going after those with the X-gene. Not at all.
SPECIFICS
i'm looking for anything and everything under the sun. canon setting
is great - we can delve into any season, start from any point. we could even
start after the season 4 finale and build our own season 5. i definitely wouldn't
be opposed to doing prequel stuff either, life on the Ark and all of that.
i'm also totally down for AU settings/plots as well: coffee shops, college,
cop/delinquent. even AUish ideas with Grounder plots, etc. i have a few
ideas rolling around in my head.
bold is the role I'd prefer to play.
▸Bellamy x Clarke
▸Bellamy x OC ✚
▸Bellamy x Murphy
▸Bellamy x Raven
▸Murphy x Clarke
▸Murphy x OC
▸Murphy x Raven
CONTACT
Interested? Have questions? Post here or PM me, pretty please!
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