"You Haven't? That's Too Bad. Cause I Don't Even Know You," Blitz Stretched, Getting Comfortable, "but

"You haven't? That's too bad. Cause I don't even know you," Blitz stretched, getting comfortable, "but I'd probably put you on a list. Hot chair guy, something like that." The imp was tired, his body pleasantly limp after an absurdly long and hard day, and draping himself over someone felt incredible. Granted, draping himself over an absolute stranger who may or may not want him there was questionable at best, but it sure felt nice.

Choosing not to worry about it, Blitz closed his eyes and leaned his head back over the man's shoulder, tucking his horns in comfortably against his back.

"So. If we're gonna cuddle," as if it wasn't all Blitz's ridiculous doing, "you gonna tell me your name? Mine's Blitz--the O is silent."

@doublejango

"Means you might be a little sus," Blitz said, hopping directly into the guy's lap, "but someone thinks you're fucking doable."

"Luckily I haven't seen my name anywhere, yet." He chuckles watching as the imp climbed on his lap. It did kind of catch him off guard though he didn't object.

Don't just be pretty, be present. Write with the world like it's real.

There is a lot of beautiful writing in the RPC, a myriad of wonderfully different styles and preferences, and that is an excellent thing! If this tip doesn't feel like it is for you, that is okay! Everyone has different styles and desires; it may resonate with some people and not with others and that is absolutely okay. No one needs to be an expert at anything--I'm certainly not! I almost never edit replies, sometimes I just babble pure nonsense, and I'm a tiny bean of an RPer in a sea of amazing artists. These are just thoughts that have been kicking around in my head for a while, and that I hope will help someone here and there.

Don't just be pretty, be present.

Rather than stressing over how pretty your reply is, whether that means word choice or the actual formatting of the post, consider how present your character is in that post. Are they just passively reacting to a situation or a statement? Or are they really interacting with whatever is going on? Whether it's purple prose or stripped down simplicity, for some people things will feel a little flat, a little hollow, if a reply is especially passive--if a character responds but gives nothing back.

Is one of the characters carrying something weird around in the scene, like a chunk of 2x4 or a broken trumpet? Whatever it is, consider having your character interact with that element. Since it has been introduced, it exists, and there is nothing wrong with having your character notice it. Maybe they interact verbally, by asking about it. Maybe they interact through the narrative, by thinking something about it, or having an emotional response to it if it might be something they have previous experience with. Or, hell, if it really feels too random, you can have your character think that. Just like, What the hell is Joan doing with that trumpet? I don't want to deal with any more weird shit today.

React to what is around you in the scene. Interact with the world. If you're in a castle, maybe consider having your character touch the wall and make note of the texture. If something horrible is happening, don't just repeat a list of the events that happened, but show how your character reacts. You can show reactions internally or show reactions externally, and you can absolutely do both! Showing internally could mean demonstrating through their narrative or their thoughts how they feel about whatever just happened. Does it terrify them? Is their heart pounding? Do they want to run? Are they struggling to continue to stand next to their best friend? An external response might be describing their actions without touching on what's happening in their head--like taking a few steps back, a sudden gasp, stepping in front of their loved one--or even just describing how they look. Maybe they go pale, maybe their hands shake or their voice shakes. You don't have to state everything, you can show them however you want to, but for a lot of people, an RP experience is going to feel much more interactive, much more immersive, when you have the scene get to your character.

A beautiful character standing there and observing events is great, and it can be absolutely in character for them to be completely bored about whatever it happening, to show no reactions whatsoever... but that can be boring for your writing partners, especially in an action scene, and not leave them feeling inspired or feeling they have any sort of a hook to respond to. There's a line from an old song that always comes to mind when I think about this: If you're bored then you're boring. Not necessarily always true, there are ways to keep a bored character engaging, but it can be true. It can be very true. If a character has no more reactions than a plank of wood, then the other characters in the scene might as well walk away and go find an actual plank of wood.

A beautifully written reply that ultimately says nothing of significance to the situation can be wonderful, a gorgeous bit of almost poetry--but for some, it may leave your partner feeling like their efforts to create or support an important moment in the plot have fallen flat.

[Adding: Vivid descriptions are interacting. You're interacting with the world when you do that, you're making it more real. Flashbacks are interacting, you're showing how the events affected your character and what is happening in their mind suddenly. Try to give something for your partner to work with, of course, but don't hold yourself back. Chase your inspiration!]

Write like actions have consequences; play with the world like it's real.

I know a lot of people can be unsure how to react, because they don't want their characters to fail, but that is a trap that may lead to a stagnated scene. Your character doesn't need to win all the time. Let them be imperfect, let them fuck up, let them make mistakes, let them fall on their face, let them be in danger, let them risk it all, let them need help sometimes--

Let them be alive. (Or, you know, whatever passes for alive in their particular canon!)

It's RP. It's okay to take risks. It's okay to not be sure what the perfect response would be, it's okay to experiment, to go with what you feel your character would really do--even if that means they drop everything and bolt out of there, even if it means party members don't see eye to eye on something. It can be daunting to write a character with significant flaws, and it's not for everyone, but for a lot of us? I think it can be super rewarding to go through those little arcs and moments, the ups and downs, the times when your character is doing well and the times when they're just--lost. Flailing.

Write like everything matters. Even if you just do it in tiny little ways, use the scene around your character; let the weather affect them, let them idly pick at some grass if they're sitting in a meadow, let them be sore from a particularly chafed feeling spot because they've been sweating in their armor in an arena all day. Let them be cranky. Let them have headaches. Let their intentions, thoughts, preferences, and vibes not always match their lover's in any given moment; there's a lot to be said for characters who aren't always in perfect harmony with each other. Maybe one wakes up cranky and the other wakes up wanting to burst into song, bathe in coffee, and tackle ten new projects before the birds even start singing. Let them clash, let their love show through how they both respond to those little clashes.

And don't be afraid for your actions to have consequences. Write knowing that your character might be absolutely saying the wrong thing and digging themselves an ever-deeper hole here. Write as if your partner's reply has consequences: if the other character is a dick to yours, don't feel like your character must remain unaffected. Maybe they have the kind of personality where that can roll off their back, but then again, maybe they don't. Let your character be affected by things. Let them be hurt, let them be angry, let them be confused. Let them laugh. Let their minds wander.

Let the world, and the people in it, affect them.

If a bus goes by, maybe your character misses a few words of what the other said. Maybe those words are important.

Maybe it's a hot day and your characters have been out and on the go nonstop; it's okay to let your character be cranky, overheated, and dehydrated and just need to get somewhere cooler and quiet to decompress.

And then for big plot moments? If something terrifying happens, or something amazing, don't pretend it isn't happening, don't ignore it in favor of just replying point-by-point to every bit of dialog from your partner's last post. Conversations aren't always perfect. They ebb and flow--and they can absolutely be interrupted. Have fun. Talk with your partners. Don't try to control them, and don't use "it's what my character would do" as a way to trash a plot or ensure someone else has a bad time. Don't use RP replies to punish them. Keep it genuine in-character, whatever that means for your muses, and keep it kind out of character...

But don't keep your writing or your characters behind glass.

Let the world interrupt your character. Let the world move your character. Let the person with them have an impact on them, for better or for worse. Let them be hurt. Let them do the hurting. Let little things annoy them. Let them be distracted. Let the world matter. Let their emotions and reactions show.

They don't need to be a pretty, perfect, porcelain doll to be an incredible roleplay character. They just need to be present in their own scenes, in their own stories <3

Eris didn't need to look to guess at exactly who had made Queen Elsa falter, and a smirk touched his lips--just the hint of one, as he knew she wasn't one to be trifled with--to his senses, she blazed like a white flame, cool and contained but dangerous, and likely far fiercer than she seemed--but a smirk all the same.

"It may be worth discussing," he said, although whether or not that was genuine agreement was anyone's guess. Touching a hand to his chest, he bowed to her--a respectful, elegant bow, but a small one. They were in the heart of his Court, after all, and the winter ball was about to begin. Eris was not inclined to bow deeply to anyone, least of all a foreign queen--and one who was arguably human, at that. Still, he had invited her here, and couldn't bring himself to be outright rude... even if the only reason he had invited her was an idle curiosity. How would she react to discovering that he had made a pet out of one of her own? He knew by now that there was some connection between Hans and Elsa, and stirring this particular pot seemed like a delightful way to deepen the game.

"Welcome to the Autumn Court, lovely queen. It is but one realm of many, within the land of Prythian--although we do not often welcome humans, I hope you find yourself invited to the other Courts during your stay. Partial as I am to my own," this time his smile was genuine, "each is more beautiful than the last. Spring is doing well, finally; the flowers bloom without shame after too long dormant. But can a flower truly compare to a tree touched with every shade of red and gold?"

This place was alive with magic, even the air itself seemed to dance with magic, awake and aware of itself, fierce and free--and all of it tied to the High Lord. Everything in Autumn, from the greatest oak to the tiniest pebble, was a part of this man, a magic ever renewed by his presence, drawing life from him, tied to him.

"Enjoy the festival. Unless you have a strong head for drink, may I suggest you avoid any wine that seems to shimmer? And the sweeter a fruit may seem to be," added, picking up a heavy, ripe blackberry from a passing tray, "the more intoxicating, and the more you will crave, the more you will need. Yet just one? I think the risk will be... minimal. For one such as yourself."

Eris held it out to her on his palm, rich golden eyes gleaming as he studied the beauty. "What is it the humans say? We must not look at goblin men, we must not buy their fruits--who knows upon what soil they've fed their hungry, thirsty roots? But," he smiled, "this one does not come from goblins. Please. Enjoy it, as a gift of welcome; let it please you, and you will be able to see through any glamour tonight, until sunrise."

Although the truth, Eris privately thought, was all too often worse than the dreams. Sometimes it was better to look no deeper than a deception offered.

"Lord Vanserra," Elsa bowed respectfully, a smile on her face. "I'm honored that you've invited me to your court. An alliance between our peoples would be most ---" her voice trailed off for a moment. That smile faltering. She could swear she saw someone familiar among the crowed ballroom. "Most welcome, it would be most welcome."

( @doublejango )

for @umbravirtus -- because clearly, none of us actually love Hans enough to like, not torture him when given the opportunity. and btw, for anyone who does not want to see a non-Hellaverse guest muse on here (Eris Vanserra, from ACOTAR), you can blacklist his tag, I will be sure to use it on all of his replies <3

-

"We caught this one in the northwoods, High Lord," one of the guards said, bowing deeply as they brought their prisoner forward.

Eris Vanserra did not immediately acknowledge them. He had heard them, but he was occupied with the way a courtier was whispering into his ear. The woman had been trying to get his attention for months, and he was fairly certain she was one of Azriel's little spies, doubtless instructed to play at being thoughtless in order to get close. He had ignored her all this time, but with the Harvest Festival approaching, it seemed best to just deal with her. If she thought he really was listening, well, that was unfortunate for her. Things were tenuous at best these days--not just in the lands of his Court, but all throughout the fae realm--and his patience was wearing thin. Still, he let her whisper, let her lean in close, let her perfume fill his senses--then waved a dismissive hand at her.

Her teeth clicked, she shut her mouth so quickly. Eris smirked, not even kind enough to bother hiding it. He was in a mood these days, and saw no reason to pretend otherwise. Having recently taken over as High Lord, it felt like he was constantly dancing along the edge of a knife. It would be nice to have a distraction, and apparently one had just arrived.

Stepping down from the dais, he walked towards the handsome human prisoner. As he moved, Eris seemed to gleam; the grand hall was full of firelight, torches and candles everywhere, glittering on the gold and gems worked into his clothing--robes of a rich red silk, exquisitely layered and cut to reveal shades of copper and gold underneath, a living flame. And although his crown seemed to be made of nothing more substantial than red maple leaves, it was undeniably a crown.

One who walked the way Eris did, with his poise and confidence, with a cruelly interested gleam in his golden eyes, needed little else to indicate his position, his power.

"A human," he observed, laughing softly. Hans's hands were chained behind himself, although it seemed an unnecessary step. What was the human going to do? The fae lord smiled, his features sharp and lovely, his long hair softer and lovelier still--and touched a fingertip to Hans's chest.

Immediately, the man's clothing began to smolder and burn, but the High Lord only smiled, meeting the human's eyes.

"You have, oh, twenty seconds before the flame moves through you, into your heart. Tell me what I need to know about you, human: do you offer yourself to me? Or will you be yet one more problem for me to deal with? I have several executions planned for this evening." The words elicited a rustle of surprise from the dozens of fae who had already gathered, but the High Lord gave them no notice. "It will not trouble me to add you to that list."

The prince's lips come close to Blitz's ear, feather-light touch to the back of his horns; there, and gone within an instant before they settle instead on his feral lover's shoulders. ❝ I thought of you today while I was out, ❞ he begins, lips curving into confident and fond smile. Stolas steps away to pull a heavy velvet bag from within his pocket. He was grateful for it provided the gift it carried. From within, Stolas produces an intricately crafted knife that was almost black, were it not for the shifting sheen of its blade. It changes upon movement like the iridescence of corvid feathers. At the base where blade met hilt, was a singular engraving - a B for his name. ❝. . . one can never have too many weapons, in your case at least. ❞

Blitz had closed his eyes at the wonderful contact from his lover, leaning his head back and reaching up to caress his head with his claws, but he didn't try to hold on. He watched as Stolas moved around him--and then, when the knife came out, his lips parted and his breath caught.

It was beautiful.

There had to be a catch to something so stunning, but it didn't matter. If Stolas trusted it? That was enough for Blitz. He would let his prince ruin him, ruin every last part of him, without hesitation, if that was ever what Stolas needed. It would be a hell of a way to go.

Hand closing around the hilt, a pleased shiver moved through him. The knife fit. It fit in his hand like it was made to be there, and he could practically feel it hissing with eagerness to be christened. Thoroughly charmed by the beauty, the imp turned the blade from side to side for a moment, just watching the way it shimmered, how dark the reflections were, before he looked back up and met his baby's eyes.

"The first person it kills will be in your honor." Leaning up, he kissed them tenderly--even as his tail wrapped hard around their waist, the spade angled away so as not to cut him, but the grip tight. Possessive. Unyielding.

"What can I give you in return, my love? Would you like a prisoner skinned? Would you like to be tied to your throne and toyed with? Parts of you... sealed with wax?" The words were crude, but they were also love, pure love.

Blitz's eyes were never brighter than when he looked at Prince Stolas.

Those words hit harder than maybe Elsa meant for them to. As he listened, Blitz's eyes widened and his tail drooped a little. The way Elsa spoke of the sister who had presumably died long ago was warm and loving, but the grief? The grief.

For an immortal to love any mortal at all, whether they were family or not, and to be left living on without them--carrying memories, loving ghosts... to have the entire world change without them... Was that what he was going to do to Stolas?

The assassin got up and walked away a few paces, hands on his hips. tail starting to swish. "Do you ever--would it be--I don't..." Sighing in disgust at himself, he pressed a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes. "Is it better? For immortals. Better if you don't have to--if those of us who are just going to die... just stay away? So you don't have to... remember us?" He had just taken the conversation completely off topic and he knew it, but it was too late to turn it back now.

"He reminds me of my sister, Anna. I miss her. Her love could hold up the world. Sometimes I think it did because nothing feels the same without her. So it's wonderful when I can feel that warmth in others. I hope Peter gets all of the good things you hope for him. He deserves happiness."