You might want to create a backstory for your character; unless you want him to be super secretive. Also, a personality would be good.
Hes not a ranger but rather former ranger tends to try to help people but tends to mess up also the quiet one.Also speaks only if spoken two or if he needs to.
Here are some photos of what I imagine my character to look like incase in one of his more natural forms incase you're wondering. You're damned right there from MGS V! Because there awesome and I love the way he looks. A perfect blend of flame, sorrow and fury. I'm doing this character that may seem a bit non lore friendly because I want to explore the spiritual side of the Metro that we've seen exists in the Metro through often small hints like the way Khan acts or the picture of the chronicles pack where Khan sits within a chalk circle while mutants roar just outside it's boundaries stopped only by his prayers. Or even when the Metro itself takes you on that crazy water vision. All of these tell that there is a strong spiritual presence with Metro and so I decided to have some fun with it by making this unusual character! Hope you don't mind...
Name: Sabrina Sokolova Raskalov Age: Somewhere in her late twenties/early thirties. General Appearance: Average height, Dark Red hair to a bit below her ears with black after-growth on the top, Shady yellow-ish eyes, Thin eyebrows, Average body-build for a female her age, Mild voice. Clothing: The girl wears an old brown ragged hooded jacket with pockets on the sleeves. Under it, she wears a slim long black T-shirt and black sweatbands on her wrists. She wears a little brown scarf around her neck. Outside her jacket, she wears a grey camouflaged bulletproof vest with five large pockets. On her hands, dark grey worn fingerless gloves. Brown thick cargopants and brown boots. Equipment/Armor: Light-weight platings on her legs and thighs, as well as a wide holster-strap on her right thigh. Wide equipment belt around waist. On her shoe-tips, she has sharp nails attached. On her gloves, she has knucklepads with three sharp strong metal-claws on each pad. She also has long strong leather-bracelets around her wrists outside the jacket, from hands to elbows. Backpack with different necessary items like food, water, filters and a gasmask, ammunition etc. Picture: Spoiler Weaponry: Slinged onto her back, she wields a large strange weapon. She has a Large Kabar hunting knife on her back waist, in a holster, and a silenced Makarov in her right leg-holster. Picture: Spoiler I just might change this character into a male one instead, we'll see. Haven't really made up my mind yet.
Name:Stepan Age: 45 General Appearance:Short black hair, Brown eyes Clothing:Old black shirt and ragged jeans Equipment/Armor:Shoulder platings, Knee platings, heavy bulletproof vest Night Vision Goggles Weapons:AKS-74U, Ashot. Backstory: When he was born in the 1990s his father was part of the Russian army, he and his mom and father lived in Siberia until his father was stationed in Moscow. He had been stationed here in 2006, Stepan was just about 19.The reason his family was here was because he had just been promoted from Lt. to Captain.When his father was informed that the enemy had launched nuclear missiles he said "Lets take the train", when they got to the metro they heard the sirens. His father had several troops at the station and 6 pigs and several plants. In 2014 the Russian Government had messaged his father saying that the president was in the bunker near Siberia, He was told to go inside D-6 and control the soldiers to establish Metro Command. When command fell he and his family ran to Polis and his father became part of the council of Kshatriya. in 2033 when Artyom showed up at Polis with ulhman Stepan was on guard at the gate, when they entered he said to his friend Pavel "He looks Important", Pavel nods and looks forward. His shift ends and he sees the same fellow in coming out of the Council meeting room. Stepan shortly walks towards him and says "Where are you from?", "Exhibition" Artyom replied. He then walks off with miller. Stepan then goes unto the metro because he learns that Exhibition is in trouble and wants to help. He travels the metro for the only key to save Exhibition.Homer.
Name: Arkadia "Ark" Destrovich Age: 21-23 Appearance: Around 6" - 6"1' (His face and hair are the same as my avatar of Engie especially the hair!). Build is about average, a fit looking individual of about 150lb. Being born underground Ark's eyes a pale grey. Armour/Equipment: A Metro made ballistic vest with three integrated ammo pouches and bare metal shoulder guards. An old tan coloured uniform with brown leather combat boots and brown puttees. A single black fingerless glove on the right hand an old soviet era water canteen/mess tin kit. He wears a K6-3 helmet while between stations and a worn leather ushanka While resting in stations. On his back he lugs around a fare sized rucksack containing all the goodies a ruck sack should, including a couple old world grenades. Weapons: As his primary Ark carries an AK-74m that has been modified to chamber 7.62mm thus essentially turning it into a Metro made AK-103. The only other modification is the application of whit nail polish dots on the sights to make it easier in the dark. He carries a Makarov pistol as a side arm which he stuffs in his waist belt keeping two extra magazines in a side pouch. During station entries he stuffs the Makarov and mags into a well made hidden flap in his rucksack. After the Makarov his last weapon is an old butcher bayonet. It resembles a German bayonet from the great war, but know one knows for sure. Either way he keeps it sheathed behind the left side small of his back, mostly for intimidation. Here is an image of exactly what my character looks like minus a few things like the NVG's and pistol holster. But I really love how he slings his rifle. Therefore this is the pose you can expect to see him in on any missions quieter moments. Yes it is a Metro concept art piece which just makes me love it even more. Also here's a picture of the Bayonet he carries. Backstory: Arkadia was born a couple months after the great war in the station of Kitay-gored. His father had been an average auto mechanic while his mother worked some sort of reception job. Lucky for Ark's parents his father had totaled the sedan in an accident that he still claims to this day wasn't his fault (although he has never explain exactly what happened to begin with...). Either way, the only transportation for his mom and dad was the Metro. And, who would know it, the world pulled a death star and exploded... Well, that's how he describes it anyway. Of course his parents just so happened to be using the Metro at the time and where naturally saved, giving birth to young Ark two months later. And when he turned 3 he and his parents moved to Arbatskaya while the getting was good and started one of the first gun shops along with a couple new friends. How nice. ~~~ "Did I ever tell you the one about Revolution square?" "Yes of course Ark, a dozen times for Christ sakes!" "Yeah well, that ones my favourite..." "I'll listen to it. Somebodies gotta pass the night through" "Ah! The new guy wants to hear it. You see Zasha!? This one is interested in my thrilling tale!" "I've heard better if you ask me..." Zasha says with a slightly sarcastic tone and a dirty smile. "Fuck off! You cheat" I spat in my own defense as I give Zasha a hard but playful punch to the arm. "Ok ok I was joking, only joking Ark. Please hold back your demon rath" *giggles* "C'mon you two cut it out! Let's hear that 'thrilling' tale of yours" I adjust my posture and take a small pause to build the suspence, then, leaning in I begin to recount the journey. "Well... No doubt you remember the Hansa and Reds bloody war a few years ago?" "Of course! Who could forget such a mess" "Well, then you've obviously heard the tales about Revolution square and it's particularly bloody struggle. For months each side threw their troops back and forth over that station. Much bloodshed. Much suffering and death. A terrible place with a terrible fate awaiting any soldier who stepped foot near it's gates. Hundreds died on those tracks without a chance in Hell of making a dent..." "Yes everybody knows of that stations brutal past. How is it you come in?" "I was getting to that! If you want to jump to the sweet stuff I'll start by telling you... I was there..." "Bullshit! Your not a Red, and sure as Hell not a Hansa citizen. No civi could get near those parts for over a year! How'd you do it?" "Simple. I wasn't a civi. In technical terms they called us 'Private contractors'. Mercenaries in every other context... You may not know it since the Hansa would never admit to needing mercs to pull their weight but it's the straight truth. And not just the Hansa, the Reds too!" "Fuck off!" This guest was clearly hooked by the tale so far and I knew it. I gave Zasha a childish grin. He stresses a pair of middle fingers by his waist side. I say nothing to him. "It's true! They lacked the proper man power to get the job done, especially near the end of the war. More so the Hansa but we got our fare share from the Reds as well. They paid in AIMS, military gear and even weed they had seized from travelers. Anything to buy our aligances. And this is where it starts to get funny in a sort of dark way... Quite often the situation would arise where us mercs would make a push and capture the station ahead of our employers leaving the Hansa on one side, the Reds on the other and us mercs controlling the station. We controlled the station! Can you believe that! Not the Reds. Not the Hansa. But a bunch of mercenaries. And the best part was that we'd often lock down the station and 'Put it up for sale'... We found it quite amusing to see both sides trying to out bid each other in this kind of twisted auction of ours. "We'll give you 80 horns to let us in!" "We'll give you 90 and all the comforts you desire! Just let us in!" "Citizenship and free property for everyone courtesy of the Hansa if you give the station to us!" Oh those where fun time!... I mean the war was brutal and the battles still haunt me. But those moments in-between almost made it worth it... Ok not at all but it was something special to see the two greatest powers of the Metro begging at our feet like petty market traders. Revolution square was ours to give to who ever we wanted". "We were Gods amongst kings".
Awesome characters, both of you! I also love how you used a character in the actual game, Stalker Bar. Some more screenshots of my character, without her weapons: (The feet might look very big because they're pointing downwards) Front: Spoiler From the left: Spoiler From the right: Spoiler Back: Spoiler Front close: Spoiler From above: (To show haircolor) Spoiler Front skew: Spoiler I couldn't find a second version of the model without the gasmask, so unfortunately we'll never see her face. But she never wears the gasmask, unless I specifically say so in my RP post. Usually, that is whenever wearing a gasmask is required. Anyway, that is her gasmask.
I'm back, sorry for being gone for a while. I'm changing my character a bit, I'm taking away the 6B7 and the 6B3, and I'm modifying the AK a bit. Headgear is now a Olive Drab Rys-T helmet with a modified Ranger gas mask to be used separately (think Enter the Metro, even though that was a PMK). Armor is now an Olive Drab FORT Defender-2 MOLLE, with groin, arm, and neck protection. 4 mag pouches and a medical pouch in the middle of the vest. The AK now has a holographic sight.
Hope you recall me, was just checking in after an outstretched absence, and I'm really content I decided to check how the site was going now out of all possible times, though I could have been a bit earlier. Finally things are up and running again, or so it seems. I'm posting this here because, as I've stated before, my main purpose here was roleplaying to begin with, so I'll just take some time to remember and, if necessary, rethink my character, and I will try to have a character sheet up by tomorrow. I am also going to try to get into the rest of the community as well, just in case anyone cares at all. Also, I will add, I'm glad you started anew, as I've read through the last roleplay, which is an ordeal I wish for no-one to experience (sarcasm, most of it is pretty well written), and it was getting a bit drawn out towards the end
Name: Iakov Cardinski Gender: Male Age: 16 Height: 5'7 Hair color : Dirty Blonde Eyes: Brown Clothing/Gear: Standard OD Ranger uniform, Rys-T helmet with a custom gas mask for traveling the surface (see the above post). VDV telnyashka. Black boots, backpack, and FORT Defender-2 MOLLE with ammo pouches and medical pouch. He wears a Telnyashka, boots, and BDU pants when off-duty. Weapons: Makarov PM, an AK-74M with a Eotech 553 sight, and a Kalash bayonet. Home Station: Polis, previously Revolution Square Personality: a very good (if not cold) person at heart. Rather intelligent with a photographic memory. Also a rather depressed person (but believes that he is needed and is not at the point of debating suicide). Parents, the Reds, Revolution Square, and Hunter are sensitive topics to him. Early Life: Iakova was born in 2017 to a rich Hansa (an ex-FSB operative) stalker and his wife in Revolution Square. Hansa-Red Line War: Iakova was only 4 when the Hansa-Red Line War began. Because of his wealth, Iakova's father was initially spared of the draft, but when the stalemate began at the Lenin Mausoleum his father was recruited because of his knowledge of the surface. Three days later, he was reported K.I.A. when a group of Red volunteers strapped grenades to themselves and rushed the fortification where he was stationed. Life for Iakova, now age 10, got worse when the battle of Revolution Square began. When his mother could not afford to send him to another station (his father's remaining funds were spent on survival and skyrocketing taxes), Iakova was told to "Step into your father's shoes" and become a stalker. Stalking: Iakova, though worried and frightened, began leaning from his father's old notes and various maps what the most interesting (and profitable) locations of the surface were. His home was a tank that had been suppressing riots hours before the bombs fell, as it's CBRN capabilities protected him from the radiation outside. His most favorite location was the Museum of the Great Patriotic War, where he learned about the war that "Made this current war look like a cat-fight", as well as finding new technologies that could be made in the Metro. Most notably were artificial fuel, simpler rubber, and (his favorite) a lightweight rocket launcher that could be easily made in the Metro. However, he did not spend more than 3 hours at a time there, because of strange phenomena, battlefield sounds even though he was many miles from any conflict in the Metro. Return to Hansa and the Rangers: After a year, Iakova returned to the Metro in search of his mother, who was killed loading ammunition for a Hansa DShKM during the final Red charge of the station. Discouraged, he moved on to find more peaceful parts of the Metro. It was here, in a tunnel leading to Oktyabr'skaya, where he met a lost Ulman, about to be executed by a squad of bandits. After killing the bandits with his Kalash, he offered to bring Ulman to Polis in exchange for becoming a citizen there. Ulman agreed, and, intrigued by Iakova's skill in fighting and his knowledge of the frozen surface, later pitched in a good word to Miller (who had actually known Iakova's father) to ask Iakova to join the Rangers. Rangers and D6: Upon being accepted into the Rangers, Iakova sought out to get a thank you gift for everyone of the then-small group of Rangers. Ranging from a (hilariously bad) joke book for Ulman to Vasili Zaietsev's sniper rifle for Anna, Iakova was soon sent to scout the surface with Hunter and another Ranger, Red. Being a Ranger, he had various perks for life in Polis. His favorite is a room to himself, complete with his own,fully functioning, bathroom. Upon hearing the declaration of war between Reich and the Red Line (to which he was not surprised at all about, given his knowledge of the Great Patriotic War), he was tasked with renovating a base on the surface, Sparta Base. It was here that he met an old philosopher, who frequented the old chuch. After discussing life, the state of humanity, as well as the phenomena that inhabited the Museum of the Great Patriotic War, the man told him to, "Think before you make a life-altering decision, whether it be yours or someone else's." With a new crisis occurring at VDNKh, he decided to have a neutral take on the matter, staying post at Sparta Base. When Miller decided to eliminate the Dark Ones at Polis, Iakova had a heated argument with Miller. Miller ordered him to stay "one step behind us" and shortly after the six Rangers departed for D6, Iakova departed for Sparta Base, and later D6 to protect Vladimir. Changed by the destruction of the Dark Ones, Iakova now stands watch at Sparta Base. He makes periodical stops to the Museum of the Great Patriotic War, to relive the only time he can remember being happy in his life.
- Name : Leonid "Ilaryitch" Ilaryievitch Grebets - Gender : Male - Age : 56 or so - Height/Weight : 1.97m≈6'5 / 140kg≈300lbs. - General Appearance: Starting from the top, Ilaryitch features buzz-cut, balding gray hair, leading down to a face scarred by the cold tunnels, but left in a state of seemingly unsuited cheerfulness: Various burn scars, cuts and the likes litter his face, but the outstanding ones are one running down the left cheek from the ear to the ridge of a pronounced jaw, and, somewhat ironically, a faint one remaining from treatment of childhood cleft lip. Eyes are a light brown, though bothered by red eye. Stubbles frequent his cheeks, as shaving is only done with a straight razor and water when the opportunity presents itself. A short beard, however, starts at his chin. His body resembles that of a barrel, lying somewhere in between overweight and heavily muscled, a perfect example of the "russian bear". Clothed in moderately substandard Metro-apparel; rough-worn trousers along with a seldom worn, tent-sized hooded poncho of sorts consisting of sackcloth repurposed and rittled with patches of similar materials. A faded, bland t-shirt worn under a synthetic material workmans-jacket. A pair of hiking boots approximately as old as himself, and a backpack that would impress a mule tops it off. For colour; everything is either brown, black or grey. - Equipment : An RPK-74, along with an old, but sharp woodsmans axe are his weapons of choice. As he can't seem to find a sidearm that fits his hands, he has made do with them, along with his mouth or fists for a long time. In his back he also carries a variety of miscellaneous items, including a gas mask, spare ammunition, shroom-vodka and cigars. - Personality : He is a jovial, joyful fellow, though closed in when it comes to personal matters, and hardly shares own opinions, prefering to listen to others when not telling a joke. His addition to an overly serious (used by his own definition) situations will often be a booming, contageous laugh. - Back Story : I'm going to leave a lot of the backstory untouched, as for one the roleplay itself is a lot more interesting way to learn these staories, as well as the fact that it gives me some time to work through even more. Being 35 when the bombs fell, he had his view on the world, and he had his own life. The end of the world changed his life towards better or worse, and it would seem like he is just trying to forget it all. The twenty years after the war he spent travelling, and meeting people, and due to this he doesn't feel at home anywhere in the vast network of shafts and tunnels. He is the stranger sitting, and observing, in the corner of the local bar, and when you turn your head he laughs, or leaves. I'm going to leave it this short for now, I might add more later, but frankly, I'm halfway asleep already. As such, if you find any errors,contradictions or the likes, please relate them to me, and I'll p̶r̶o̶v̶e̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶w̶r̶o̶n̶g̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶g̶o̶ ̶b̶a̶c̶k̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶b̶e̶d̶ correct them (and go back to bed).
Name: Boris Polivanov Gender: Male Age: 17 years Hair colour: Dark brown Eye colour: Blue Hairstyle: Buzzcut Facial hair: None Appearance: Not yet fully grown, he stands around 180 cm tall. When sleeves are rolled up, a long scar around his left forearm is visible. His skin looks healthier than most post-war kids. Clothing/Armour: He wears black military-style cargo pants and a blue and white-striped Russian sailor shirt. He carries a backpack: And a vest: http://img594.imageshack.us/img594/8788/20121206132445.jpg In his backpack he carries a PMK-3 gas mask, a set of ONV-3 night vision goggles, some home-made stun grenades, tear gas, smoke grenades and some fairly sophisticated explosives. Weapons: He carries a black AK-74M, that he fits with a suppressor if stealth is needed. As a sidearm he carries a Sig P229R (.357 Magnum): http://i.imgur.com/CZB29cu.jpg He also carries a suppressor and subsonic handloads for his sidearm. Backstory: Boris lived the good life. He is the son of a high-ranking Hanzan officer, and has enjoyed the benefits of this for most of his life. When he was young he would often go hunting for nosalises in the tunnels, and grew accustomed to the role of hunter and moving without being detected. Decoys, deception and surprise is what he relies on, be the target human or mutant. Being around the upper class of the Circle Line has also influenced him strongly. He is very committed to the Hanzan cause and has spent the last year organizing resistance on the red line. Setting up posters and vandalism, mostly, but also murder. Whenever he was discovered, he retreated in to the tunnels, where he had the upper hand with his traps and night vision goggles. One time, however, a member of his resistance cell had told on him to the communist authorities, and he was taken to the interrogation room. To the displeasure of his interrogator, he kept his mouth shut. This is when he earned the 30 cm large scar along his left forearm. The interrogator was furious and started cutting through Boris's arm with his knife, and didn't stop until he had reached Boris' wrist. Despite crying from the agonizing pain, Boris considers the scar a badge of honor. He must have actually done a good job to piss of the communists so badly. Luckily for Boris, a Hanzan Elite rescue team got to him only few minutes after the wound was inflicted (under direct order from Boris' father, of course) and he managed to survive. Personality Boris can best be described as a loyal soldier: He does whatever the mission recquires, practically ignoring his own safety. However, when among friends, Boris is a friendly person and a bit of a wise-cracker.
Name: Pyotr Semyon Gender: Male Age: 25 Appearance: Tall and athletic, with normally chestnut hair soot covered. He has a kink in his nose indicating a previous broken nose. The left side of his face is scarred, with his cheek and jaw slightly slumped to one side, making it uneven. Equipment: Olive Czech Army Trenchcoat, used and dirtied, with some tears wrapped by blood soaked rags. His cargo trousers and boots are almost blackened by soot. He has an M72 Bulgarian helmet, with сталкер engraved on the side. If on the surface he uses an Finnish M-61. He has fingerless gloves, and an WW2 webbing with as many magazines attached as he can. He also has some pouches along his belt with a canteen, some food cans and simple medical supplies. Light backpack filled with provisions for longer journeys. Weapons: He wields a VSS Vintorez with a wooden stock furniture, a .22 silenced pistol, and a sawn-off double barrelled shotgun for when his cover is blown. For close encounters, he favours a hatchet secured at his ankles. He is know to scavenge weapons of the fallen to give an advantage. Personality: Cold and demeaning to those he doesn't know, kind and sympathetic to those he does. Preferring to only open up to those he feel he can trust, he is suspicious of ulterior motives, hypocritical considering his. Backstory: Pyotr has been travelling as long as he can remember, from Hansa to plantations to Fourth Reich sympathizers to long forgotten tunnels. No family and few friends to his name, he is driven by an innate sense of survival, doing whatever it takes to get food on his table alive. Running as a mercenary some time ago, doing things he wishes he could forget, nightmares that plague him, he's on the run from some employers he's abandoned, leaving a bloody trail, with both sides shedding blood. After finally reaching safety in the Bauman Alliance, he is finally able to open up to people, and live instead of survival. Working to collect materials for mechanics, he is able to be human for once, in peace. His peace is interrupted after he is coerced into one final score. POV I could taste iron. The rich taste filled my mouth, masking a dull ache. That's not iron that's blood. I swore, different shades of grey slowly coming into focus. Opening my eyes, I could see the most ornate carriage. Spotless clean, no stench of sterile, no rubbing alcohol smell, but a gentle aroma of perfume. Oak tables had crystal decanters of some rich liquor none of the mushroom vodka that bordered on rat poison. "Hello Pyotr." A soft spoken voice that caused me to gasp. "Hello Nikolai." Spittle flew from my mouth in rage. "I suppose you know why you are here." He walked towards me, with a book in one hand, he tightened the leather straps constricting me. "To kill me you bastard." I tried to shake free but these bonds could not be broken. "You do deserve do die, you broke your contract but we need you for another job." He stared me right in the eye, his pristine white hair never soiled by a day in the tunnels, his skin soft and supple in a life of Hanzan luxury. "Why me?" I look around nervously, wondering if this was some sort of trick. "Because, my clients and I want plausible deniability. Hanza guards if could would cause a war. A single stalker if caught would just be executed." "Which clients?" "Ah-ah-ah. That's not for you to know." "I won't work for mystery people." He sighed. "What a shame. Sic 'im." A long blade creeped towards my neck, the blade pressing on my jugular, crushing my windpipe, I winced in pain. "I'll do it! I don't care who it's for, I'll do it." Nikolai gave a wave of his hands, and the blade was removed allowing air, sweet, sweet air into my lungs. "Wonderful. We have a special relation with Belorusskaya Trade Outpost. They provide us with fresh produce found no-where else, we leave them alone, and the Fourth Reich gives them slaves." He shook his head, looking out of the carriage. "We don't trade with Fourth Reich directly but this situation of our mutual friend keeps order. There's a special operations team from Polis sent to kill an Fourth Reich officer. He is of no problem, but we need to confirm a yearly shipment of slaves. The other officers have already signed the papers but this officer refuses to hand them over. Help the Rangers eliminate him and collect the confirmation papers, which are in his office, take them and get to Belorusskaya. Once you have, our agent will take you back to Bauman." "Where are we?" "On my private train, towards Polis. Look for an expedition to the Fourth Reich. Do not fail me Pyotr and we can consider our debt even. Fail to get those papers to Belorusskaya, and your friends at Bauman will suffer." I sat in shock. Was his threat real? Nikolai could block a lot of trade to the mechanics. I couldn't let that happen, not after they've done for me. The train shuddered to a screeching halt. Nikolai threw his opens. "Here we are! Collect your belongings and get on the Arbatsko-Pokrovskaya Line. Polis awaits you." He smiled, a smile of genuine happiness. "I don't care if you die, get those papers to Belorusskaya."
It's been done once before, but is quite a tricky path to take, especially if you're new to role-playing/typing skillZ. By the way, Welcome! I'm Aaron, the substandard and nearly abusive moderator here! hopefully you spend much time on these forums to let your squishy brains soak up all the knowledges and wonders of the Metro universe. Our members here are quite friendly so feel free to pet and cuddle them to your hearts content. Just remember to refrain from feeding them... As you can tell. I'm bat shit crazy! But that's OK, because I have the POWAH to get away with it. As for the Roleplay anyone is free to join! Just read up on the 'Rules' section to know all the knows and then create a character in this thread, just follow the examples above. This particular RP is fairly new so I suggest you read it from the start to get your bearings. Also! And this is on a more serious note.... ... .. . If you decide to join the RP it is expected that you post regularly (once a day is fine but don't leave it for more than a couple days PLEASE, for everyone's sake). It is also hoped that you don't lose interest in a couple days and disappear without a trace (t least make an exit for your character). And lastly, try your best make your posts clear and somewhat grammarly <-- correct. And lastly lastly, Have fun! Enjoy it! Be creative! Don't ever think you can embarrass yourself in the RP by letting your heart flow into it. Still there? Read the RP and brain storm an entrance and/or plot, and if your still around after that then you should be committed enough.
Awesome! Sounds like a plan. I'll read up on the ongoing RP. Now, you say it's a little tricky. How so? Perhaps I can talk to the person who created that character and maybe get some pointers from them? Ah yeah, I understand; don't want to leave people hanging. That doesn't sound too bad; my only issue is that I'm not AS much of a novel-writer type RPer as some people are. It's tough for me to write multiple paragraphs, haha. Is a solid one or two paragraphs still fine?
