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bakerstreet2017-09-18 07:01 am
sneaks) wrote in bakerstreet2017-09-18 07:01 am
Entry tags:
[ the most adorably grumpy, gumption-filled teen reporter you ever did see. under all the ice, though, is some sweetness and awkwardness all her own. probably.
allegedly.
special love for fellow teen sleuths, reporters, photographers, heroes, meddlers, etc. ]
allegedly.
special love for fellow teen sleuths, reporters, photographers, heroes, meddlers, etc. ]
[ ...she's going to need a lot of help in this area. Essentially, I want to play Carrie against a character who'll assist her in opening up to a healthy, happy teen romance and exploring her desires. Really, she just needs people in her life who are not toxic, giving her a chance to follow another path aside from the doomed one we see in canon. To that end, I can play her with powers or without, and if the former, with control or without. ]
{ no smut! aged up to 16-18 for appropriateness. open to PMs for plotting. }
tmw u accidentally break into someone's house to meet them
propitiating
2017-09-18 09:33 pm (UTC)(link)
Every so often, the walls between worlds grow a little thin. It had happened once to him before; the first time he had ended up in the grey place. He had no memory of his time before the grey place nor does he remember how long he'd been here. He could sense it though, he knew that the walls were thinning. The change in the air, the shocks under his skin. He could feel it within his very being; things were changing and moving.
And within whatever part of him that might still have been human, he was a curious creature. He was sure that he was once human, anyway. He doesn't think that he is human anymore, though. He is something else.
He reached out. Communicating with someone in another dimension is not an easy task. And yet he has managed even if it was a way that not speaking to someone directly. He's not sure why but he thought it might be more polite to meet the strange girl that seemed so often tired; well, that was what her had username suggested.
And so he had travelled; stretching and scrambling across the dimensions, through the void and into this world that he had once lived in many, many years ago. He doesn't remember how long it's been. He's not sure what year it is anymore. He doesn't remember where exactly he was, where he had lived, what year it had been. There's a lot he doesn't know these days, about himself or the worlds around him: an existence both simple and disturbing at once. But it is the only existence he has, so he works with it.
When he does find himself here, wherever 'here' is, he is filthy, muddy and reeks of charcoal and damp earth and something else, something unsettling and indescribable - a reminder of where he's come from. He tracks mud where he steps, without realising. The mud is black like tar, smoking slightly as if he had left charred embers behind him.
The room is black, dark. Full of things he doesn't recognise. He notes the paintings (no, they're not quite paintings, what are they?) and the mechanical pieces, small and intricate in design - trays and jars of liquids. Was the strange girl a kind of mage? He'd met witches before. He can feel a tingling in his fingers, sensing her presence being here, once, a short time ago. Heat and a disturbance in the air - life, breathing and being and alive. Without another step, he is sat perched on top of the chest of drawers; his hands resting in his lap, fingers twiddling and twitching, occasionally scratching at the fabric of his trousers. His shoulders hunch, head bows. He is good at waiting. He can wait and wait - time doesn't seem to make much difference. He wonders, again, why he is here. Silently, he reminds himself: he is curious.
He doesn't acknowledge that it's also because he's lonely. Not that he minded being alone - but even creatures like him, whatever he is, can be lonely.
And within whatever part of him that might still have been human, he was a curious creature. He was sure that he was once human, anyway. He doesn't think that he is human anymore, though. He is something else.
He reached out. Communicating with someone in another dimension is not an easy task. And yet he has managed even if it was a way that not speaking to someone directly. He's not sure why but he thought it might be more polite to meet the strange girl that seemed so often tired; well, that was what her had username suggested.
And so he had travelled; stretching and scrambling across the dimensions, through the void and into this world that he had once lived in many, many years ago. He doesn't remember how long it's been. He's not sure what year it is anymore. He doesn't remember where exactly he was, where he had lived, what year it had been. There's a lot he doesn't know these days, about himself or the worlds around him: an existence both simple and disturbing at once. But it is the only existence he has, so he works with it.
When he does find himself here, wherever 'here' is, he is filthy, muddy and reeks of charcoal and damp earth and something else, something unsettling and indescribable - a reminder of where he's come from. He tracks mud where he steps, without realising. The mud is black like tar, smoking slightly as if he had left charred embers behind him.
The room is black, dark. Full of things he doesn't recognise. He notes the paintings (no, they're not quite paintings, what are they?) and the mechanical pieces, small and intricate in design - trays and jars of liquids. Was the strange girl a kind of mage? He'd met witches before. He can feel a tingling in his fingers, sensing her presence being here, once, a short time ago. Heat and a disturbance in the air - life, breathing and being and alive. Without another step, he is sat perched on top of the chest of drawers; his hands resting in his lap, fingers twiddling and twitching, occasionally scratching at the fabric of his trousers. His shoulders hunch, head bows. He is good at waiting. He can wait and wait - time doesn't seem to make much difference. He wonders, again, why he is here. Silently, he reminds himself: he is curious.
He doesn't acknowledge that it's also because he's lonely. Not that he minded being alone - but even creatures like him, whatever he is, can be lonely.
i feel safer in brackets today don't mock me
operapaintingandmurder
- 2017-09-25 03:10 (UTC) - Expand( Available in canon superhero flavor, or AUs where she's some kind of urban fantasy-esque white witchy pagan, high fantasy mage, or a plain high school/college kid with freaky abilities. I'm particularly interested in a scenario where she's a darker Sabrina the Teenage Witch, dealing with some occult shit and trying to keep eldritch horrors at bay while dealing with stupid kid feelings.
I'm also familiar with most bigger canons [Star Wars, Supernatural, MCU/Marvel Comics, Game of Thrones, etc], so I'm very comfortable AUing her into them, too! )
I'm also familiar with most bigger canons [Star Wars, Supernatural, MCU/Marvel Comics, Game of Thrones, etc], so I'm very comfortable AUing her into them, too! )
[Pretty much up for anything. He's an adorable dork, and will likely need to be guided through anything.]
[ No smut please! Am happy to age him down to his teens if need be. ]
[Pass on the smut options, thanks]
( please ask first prior to anything 18+ related! )
[aged up 18+, open to cute or smutty options]
[ If you're having a first time, go big or go home.
Here are the main five characters of Sailor Moon (with profiles available here and here for the canonblind). They come as a duo or more; pick whichever girls you'd like or if you're canonblind and don't care, it'll be dealer's choice.
Prefs and kinks are here. ]
Here are the main five characters of Sailor Moon (with profiles available here and here for the canonblind). They come as a duo or more; pick whichever girls you'd like or if you're canonblind and don't care, it'll be dealer's choice.
Prefs and kinks are here. ]
Edited 2017-09-18 18:56 (UTC)
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