I’d suggest heading over to DeliciousFriends with anything like this, seeing as they’re much more active than I am! (Also, I’m just barely a POSI, and I’m the only one running this blog)
Most of our informal RP takes place via our Skype chats - and sometimes private RPs as well - but primarily, we work one post at a time for roleplays. Was that your question?
Like this? Do i reply with messages on my blog? do i become an author on yours?
Nope — we have RP blogs, linked to in our character sheet. http://deliciousfriends.tumblr.com/masterlist We blog via these, and that’s where a lot of the rp takes place.
Also oh my gosh sorry aaa i didnt see this notification ;;;; OTL
Any Fallen Londoners out there need Contacts/Acquaintances? My influence is not quite maxed out and I seem to have tapped out the forumgoers. My profile is here.
If you have NO IDEA what I’m talking about, come check it out! FL is a free, very well-written browser game. The game isn’t quite…
My profile is at http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/MagnusBane
you should be playing fallen london *widens eyes meaningfully*
I don’t know what that is, but if you direct me to it I’ll check it out!
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com is the link.
As Thursnow’s end looms over us, I’ve gone to riskier lengths to keep them alive just a little longer. I let them suck me dry of the secrets of lacre. But you see, I took the precaution of obtaining a bucket from the urchins (vile little rooftop extortionists… oh, whatever, it’s not as if I don’t have the resources) beforehand. The secrets come back out of it, under the sharp glare of scientific investigation and a magnifying eyepiece designed specifically for use investigating dangerous mysteries. I was worried I’d be left staring cluelessly into a pail of smelly white mush, but my gamble paid off. And I’ve seen the urchins refuse to sell lacre to other Londoners, something about them not appreciating it properly. That was a concern as well, but I think they’ll still do business with me for now.
I need to get back to the Forgotten Quarter. Surely there’s some ancient horse-liquor left to dig up in those ruins. I don’t have much hope that Thursnow will live to see the Feast of the Rose, but by God I’ll see them through to the end of January.
goodbye my noman
I wish I could say that my mind has settled into a sense of ease since my return from the Mirror-Marches, but…
I remember thinking in the dream that the fire actually looked beautiful, as horrifying as I find to admit that. Somehow, a small part of me was convinced that these flames would not hurt—not like actual fire.
So, the dream continued. I stayed on the jetty.
I could feel it like it was happening
again; the pain was unbearable, and I was under the water screaming but instead the water just got in my throat and it burned—oh god, it BURNED. Roland woke me up by nudging my shoulder and I came to gasping for air.
…I suppose once could take comfort in the fact that this dream is known to be one of the repetitive dreams that most citizens of the Neath experience, but it was much too close to actual memories for comfort.