【the CALL ME OUT meme】
a roleplay meme to inspire muses.

The Cast )
I have to admit, looking at sites like "app_this_plz" makes me feel like there's such similar themes in places like this. I enjoy Dreamwidth and will and to continue threads, but honestly? I haven't looked too much into IJ in spite of me having a Noah account there. Maybe I'll reopen Vlad there too, I'm not sure.

Visually the set up I'll have to get used to of course, although I hate to admit I am a visual person. I just want to find games that are more fandom AU friendly and have a different "feel" than on here.

I still am giving myself a year on this site to keep rping, and maybe alternate between here and InsaneJournal. Ideally, I'd love to join a game, maybe even (gasp!) create a loose dressing room based on some of my ocs. In saying that, I am getting busy in real life, and honestly, I want to keep it busy for a long while.

Happy RPing!

Writing this might as well be as good as writing in a private journal, considering how infrequent I am to post an entry, and how much I actually interact with others, which allows people to go under the assumption I would only post RP related things. Which, really, that was the original intent of this profile.

My life has been in a stagnation period, where I feel like everyone else is moving forward while I'm still trying to catch up.

I'm not very remarkable, and I don't say this with a predisposed state of depression, yet I just know for a fact that while I have people around me that care, which is more than what a lot of people can say it seems, I always feel like the outsider, never knowing how to get in the circle with people. Feeling like I might be missing something, something's in the way but I just can't reach it or figure it out.

Harry Potter and everything to do with the Sorting really has been prominent in my mind as of late. Particularly the day I actually took the Pottermore quiz the time it first opened.

I was eleven, the movie franchise started, which was when the next generation of kids were canonically being born, as well as the tensions with the whole muggle-magical folk lessening.

Everyone around me seemed to be crazy for this series, while I was sitting back wondering why everyone was so obsessed. I saw the first movie for the first time on a school bus heading from camp back home. While silently watching, I realized I resonated with the quiet moments and bold moments Harry had in the first movie. To this day, I love those scenes. I had a difficulty explaining why to myself, but now I realize it was because that’s who I was. Quiet, visably calm and collected, yet faced challenges head on, not thinking about being afraid when fear began to seep into consciousness. Just keep trudging along, keep fighting, no matter how many obstacles were in my way. Just not allowing fear to be a concept whether I was conscious of it or not.

That’s not to say I didn’t have fear. I was afraid of a lot of things, loud, shouting voices, angry and red faces, doing something wrong, not meeting up to my own and my teacher’s expectations, certain peers that teased and bullied me. The bullying, while no where near as bad as bullying could be the older I got, it was a factor I thought and talked about, a lot .

Being eleven, it was also around the time I became much more self aware of my differences, realizing how I didn’t know how to make and keep relationships with peers my age. Everything moved too fast, social nuances other peers seemed to understand almost immediately, I stayed behind and struggled. Even concepts you were “supposed” to understand at that age, I failed to see what was the purpose of those said subjects. So I shrugged it off and figured, “Well, I can’t understand it anyway, it’s of no use to me, so why bother?”

Onto the subject of Houses, back then, while I still wasn’t interested in Harry Potter, I wanted to be in anything other than Hufflepuff or Slytherin. I didn’t see myself in either house, since I hated the idea of either being in the “weak” house (i. e Hufflepuff) or the “evil” house. I liked how everyone seemed to love the Gryffindors, and I wanted to be seen by my peers. I started to want the attention, I wanted to socialize, while still maintaining my individuality, not becoming part of “the pride” to the point where I lose myself. Of course, this proved to be more difficult in many ways the older I went into the grade, especially middle school. I was always seen as the “good” kid by most teachers, which seemed to make enemies in some peers, misjudging my silence, oddities, and blunt honesty as being stuck up, shy, or even nasty. So I just got used to the idea of always being the lone wolf, retreating to my safe haven, with my books, writing, animals, and cartoons. I wasn’t judged there, I had control of my environment there, where anything could happen, or didn’t even have to happen. Boredom was a rarity, since I could entertain myself.

When I entered into Pottermore, I was of course, sorted and into it later than everyone else, being an on and off again fan. I had no expectations of what House I’d be sorted in. Or so I thought…once I saw the green banner, my mouth gaped. I just paused staring at the screen. I wasn’t upset, I wasn’t happy, I was intrigued and confused. It just wasn’t an option I considered for myself. But after the fact, I looked up Slytherin things online, read posts on tumblr, took other Sorting Hat quizzes only to find out that Slytherin was exactly the House I could only accept as an answer. With Hufflepuff as a second possibility.

I suppose my point in this, if I was sorted into any house, I think I could have been sorted into Slytherin even at eleven. Not because I just naturally edged to darkness, not because I preferred solace and isolation, and especially since at that point, the “pure bloodedness” idea was slowly becoming outdated, even in Slytherin House. But because the Sorting would have known I would need to go through those challenges to get where I am now. To embrace all of me, accept who I am, to understand that I need to go into the dark to swallow, digest, inhale, emerse, make friends with the inner parts of me, every part, before I could even fathom having a connection with a fellow human being. If I was in another House, I would always feel that something was missing, incomplete, worth searching and discovering because it would better Self. If I was sorted into another House, I would always feel I was neglecting myself, keep up with the self destructive and dangerous idea that I had to sacrifice every piece of myself in order to be accepted by everyone else, whose thoughts and opinions are as fickle and ever changing as the seasons, when the one I really had to please, to accept, it was me.

I had to slide and slither through the mud before I could reach the river, to the lake, to the ocean, where I would make and create myself.

This is a generic, general post if you want to leave constructive criticism on how I'm doing. Please leave a comment below. :)
Turning over to his side, Hans found himself no longer in an incarcerated institution; the dark, gloomy, shroud surroundings dissipating to an iron hearth where Hans felt it warming his face to the tips of his toes. No longer were authoritative men in dark uniforms with predatory glares looming over him. Rather, Hans woke to the profile of a large man looming over the iron cast stove, humming to himself as he took care of a dish which scent filled the entire home with such an earthy, warm delight that overwhelmed Hans' senses. The prince blinked and stared at the blonde's profile, confused for a few seconds, until he attempted sitting up, aches and pains rippled through his body, the stinging of wounds and a pounding in his skull were all that remained from the events prior. Moaning, Hans signaled his wakefulness, which caused Kristoff to comment tersely.

"Oh good. Just in time too."

Stirring slightly from his dazed state, Hans had memories of loud hollering, hooting of alcohol scented prisoners and guards. Blood, sweat, and vomit mixed with blows from fists to his torso, boot kicks to his sides, and blunt blows from the stock of rifles to his head, all of them flooded back as he gently applied pressure to the places that hurt the most, which were now bandaged with what looked like some animal skin wraps covering herbal remedies that arose in Hans' nostrils.

Finally, with the supper ready, Kristoff was in Hans view, lowering himself and the food to Hans level. Images of a man in regal, princely attire flooded Hans' memory, looming down at Hans with cold calculation with a hint of sadistic lust.

May 2016

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