Personal Message
EVENT SEALS
EVENT
GIFTS
illmatic city
superhero '18
mister
fantastic
mr & mrs illmatic '17
Voters seal
QUESTIONNAIRE
SPEEDY REPLY
wooshi
grand opening '17
HONORED GUEST
• robert sheehan •
Illmatic
Seal of Loyalty
robert sheehan
MARDI GRAS '17
PRESENTS/GIFTS
PRESENTS/GIFTS
I would like to inform you about my writing style, my requirements and some pet-peeves of mine when it comes to roleplaying.
Requirements:
> Literate replies. People's definitions of literacy are different. What I mean by literate, is that I am looking for punctuation, decent grammar, decent spelling (we all make mistakes, but not every other sentence) and a good paragraph with each reply. Of course length can be altered depending on the reply and purpose of each reply, but, PLEASE, do not start the roleplay with full paragraphs and end up giving me 3-4 lines of a reply. On another note, I tend to blabber in the beginning of roleplays, mostly because I try to set the scene as well as I can, so don't be alarmed if my first replies are much larger than a single paragraph. Third person is implied.
> Freedom when it comes to replying. You must understand that I have a life outside of the internet so I may not always be available to reply. Moreover, at times I am not even in the mood to reply so, instead of giving you a "meh" reply, I hold off until I am actually inspired. My muse is a fragile thing. I can promise you that you will have the same patient treatment from me if you decide to roleplay with me.
> A PLOT. By that I don't mean hashing out all the little details and planning the whole roleplay ahead. What I do mean is that I want there to be more to the roleplay that love, cuddles and . In fact, I happen to hate forced romance so, please, do not come in the roleplay all excited over your character having a boyfriend. What I am looking for is an interesting, smoothly flowing plot. All genres are fine.
> Realism on every level. If you're still reading, you will understand what I mean by reading my pet-peeves.
Pet-peeves:
> Characters who are purely focused on themselves. Since this is a roleplay and two writers and two (or more) characters are involved, I take it for granted that there will be mutual interest in both characters. I absolutely love discovering the other writer's character, so I appreciate it when said writer takes time to discover my own.
> Overly dramatic and/or depressed/suicidal characters. Your characters can have issues and insecurities OF COURSE, but don't make the whole roleplay about them and their problems. This one is a huge pet-peeve. The same goes for incredibly cute, gullible and/or submissive characters.
> Frequent skipping of scenes, fast-travelling to the future, avoiding stable situations. Please, DO NOT just skip a scene without discussing it with me first. Naturally it works vice versa as well.
> God-modding. Simple. Do not roleplay my character for me.
> Extremely powerful people, either of the mind or the body. I hate it when characters are overpowered (or underpowered, for that matter).
> No furries, fairies, gods, robots, whatever. Just a normal human being, please.
> Reforming your character so that he/she may fit mine. I seriously prefer your character being the polar opposite of mine than him/her agreeing to everything mine says and believes. There can be clashes, there can be fights, there can be problems. In reality it is very rare to come across a person who shares your exact thoughts, feelings and beliefs.
Uh, I cannot think of anything else for the time being, and I doubt many people have read on this far, but I am hopeful that one or two of you have managed to get through my list. I do not want to seem condescending, because I am not, it is just that I am looking for a serious, inspired roleplays after a long time and I want this to be done right. If you can meet my requirements, please, kindly leave a message on my wall or PM me. Let's create magic <3
Plots:
Plot #1 - Buzzing:
"But you're really not as tough as you make yourself seem, are you?"
If looks could kill, she would have dropped dead right then.
"You don't know me," he responded, jaw clenching in an obvious manner, a few curls fortunately hiding most of it. "Will you stop trying to read deeper into me? There's nothing exciting at the bottom, lady, so back off."
"See, that is exactly the kind of behavior that makes me think that there is, indeed, more to you than an attitude problem." He glared at her. "Otherwise you wouldn't get all worked up over such a simple sentence."
"Maybe I just don't like you, which is why I'm getting worked up."
"Fair enough. I call bull though. I mean, you obviously don't like me, but probably just because I get to call bull to your face."
"Aren't we the modest ones?" Robert rolled his eyes. "What do you want from me anyway? If I say yes will you leave me alone?"
"Nah. I won't leave you alone until you admit it, and when you do admit it I'll want to know why you act so tough and aggressive. So either way you're not getting rid of me that easily."
Robert leaned back, letting out something between a groan and a sigh. "What have I done to deserve this?"
Plot #2 - Little Bird:
There's way more than meets the eye.
She saw it. In the light smile he granted her, those big, guarded green eyes that barely ever bothered to grace another person. In the way he tugged at his cropped gloves as their gaze broke; He looked down to his coffee, seeming almost eager to go back to whatever thoughts were infesting his brain.
But she couldn't have it, not when she had seen that cliché, special something in that short moment their eyes met.
She seated herself across him on the same table, and the subtle rustling of her cardigan as it touched the material of the chair drew his attention. Bewildered eyes shifted to study her face, and she smiled at him.
He saw it too.
"Hi there," her light voice broke the silence.
Bewildered, yes, it seemed to be the appropriate word for the way the unknown man opposite her was looking at her. Perhaps he was not used to this kind of thing.
"Hi," he responded, fingers curling around the hot mug, as if to absorb its heat. He was not a loner, per se, not with the right people, but most of the people he seemed to meet were the wrong kind. "Can I help you?"
Plot #3 (Closed) - The A Team:
"Robbie, I'm hungry.."
"I know, sweety."
Despite the freezing cold, what stung the most was not the wind mercilessly whipping his face, but the panging he could feel in his heart. It felt as if it was digging through his chest, threatening to tear through the other side.
He knew she was hungry. He knew she was cold. He knew she should not have to be going through all this, and he was absolutely useless. No job, no money, an apartment due a few months; The landlord had warned him this was going to be the last unpaid month he was willing to tolerate, toddler or no toddler. He supposed he could understand the man, but he absolutely could not let that happen. He'd been homeless before and he could push through it if needed, but now that Jennifer was in the picture things were miles different.
He glimpsed at the small bakery across the park. He was not a beggar. He'd rather starve than beg, but he realized that he had no other choice right now. It was either begging, or letting his little sister starve. The choice was clear.
So, taking her by the hand, he lead to the little shop. He pushed at the door and timidly entered. There was a customer paying at that moment, so he waited until he had left. Demanding eyes fell on his person as he stood by the door, reluctant to approach, and he found speaking quiet difficult at that moment.
"Can I help you?"
He could feel Jennifer fidget as she looked around at the different products for sell. Some more quiet moments occured before he mustered the strength to speak and make the reason of his presence there known.
"I'm sorry, uhm.. I would never ask something like this, but.. my little sister is starving, and I have no money to get her some food... Just.. if you could, please, just spare anything.. just so she can get some food in her stomach.." Brows lowered, shoulders slumped, and eyes obviously guilty. This person did not have to feed her for free, that much Robert knew, but he could at least hope that they would pity a little girl. He didn't care to eat himself. He could stand hunger, but it was different for a little, innocent child like Jennifer. She simply did not deserve this.
Plot #4 - Venus As A Boy:
Labels had never been something of interest to Robert. Merely dividing people, too precise, pointless. He did not consider himself straight. Women seemed to be who he was mainly attracted to, however at times he did find himself drawn to other guys. Had he ever been ual with them? On occasion. To a degree.
Yet, as the smile on his face threatened to tear his cheeks, his body was behaving differently. There was a certain warmth surging through it starting from his neck, lowering to his torso and quickly making its way downwards. He was aroused. Absolutely attracted to the person sitting before him, and it had not even been an hour since he'd met him. It was not like Robert to be so extremely drawn to someone right of the bat, but there was just something about this guy.
His wicked sense of humour.
Smart, yet playful, cleverly constructed to lead Robert's brain to non-obvious innuendos. Stimulating both the mind and the body. It was so clear to him that that man possessed intelligence, and Robert would be a liar if he claimed wit and brains are not attractive.
His fingers.
The way they'd so cleverly just brush Robert's shoulder to emphasize whatever point he was trying to make. The eloquence with which they'd move, making his vivid words come to life. The manner of which they'd ever so casually touch his own face, his hair, each other.
It was blatantly obvious that Robert was utterly awestruck by the man, yet he could not conseal it even if he wanted to.
He didn't though.
Had he known what it felt like to be drunk, he would recognize this feeling; He certainly was not feeling entirely like himself. Wasn't he usually the one to joke? To be smart? To lure one in? He felt like the tables have turned and it didn't bother him. In fact, it was.. intriguing. Exciting. New. Raw. Instinctive.
Plot tracker:
Isabella Perschardt: Owing reply - Wall
Caitlyn Mwenifumbo: Plotting - Wall
Normani Kordei: Replied - Wall
Description
[ Profile under construction. ]
Character Name: Robert Sheehan
Character Birthday: January 7 1988
Character Age: 30
Orientation: Bi-curious
Occupation: Factory worker
Background Information:
Born and raised in Ireland, Robert was the only child of a quite disfunctional family. His mother never loved him -and if she did, she never showed it- as she blamed him for all the misfortune that came to their house upon his arrival in this world. A few months into his life, his father's company went bankrupt and the family was left with virtually nothing but an apartment they could no longer afford. Stressed out, broke, constantly fighting and blaming each other, the couple did not last for long, but there was no divorce involved. One rainy day the man of the house just up and left, disappearing never to be seen again, only to remain a faint memory in Robert's mind. The loss however was too grand for his mother to withstand so she turned to alcohol for comfort, and kept up the practice well after Robert was old enough to leave the house.
His childhood was not a happy one. Between starving, looking after his drunk mother and watching her e herself to support her drinking habbit, he was given no choice but to grow up way too early. He never got to know what it was like to be carefree, to play with other kids, to build cushion-castles and treehouses, to come home to a warm, loving environment. He grew up in utter isolation, detached from other kids his age, not taken seriously by older people, his mother absolutely appalled by him.
Because in her mind, he was at fault for everything. Maybe he was. If he had not been born, perhaps they would have managed to rebuild their lives. They wouldn't have an extra mouth to feed, a burden to clothe, to educate, to look after, to worry about. Perhaps his father would never have left her.
Still, Robert could only handle his mother's condition for only so long. Around the age of 16 he decided to leave and never look back, in hopes of perhaps building a new life for himself. Making something out of his person and making up for all the misfortune he'd brought upon his family. Balancing some of that bad karma his birth had inevitably created.
Life was not kind to him though. He spent years just scraping for money, going in and out of ty jobs, working his off for nothing but crumbs. He had been homeless, broke and defeated more times than he cared to remember. Yet he keeped pushing on for the sake of trying, not giving up like his mother did because not matter how much life would beat him, it could not be worse than what he had to go through as a child. Equiped with a stronger, less emotional and somewhat harsh mindset, the world and its people could no longer get to him. He never particularly had a dream, he simply wanted to live. To survive. And his knees were bruised and caloused from all the times he'd fallen on them; it didn't hurt anymore, he knew how to get back up.
Over the years, and preoccupied with his own survival, he lost touch with his mother. Or rather, he stopped visitting her until she too became a memory, albeit she would always be a vivid one. Nearly 4 years went by without him having heard from her -why would she bother searching him out anyway? She probably could not even recall having a son anymore. Still. She made a reappearance, but not on her own. It was November the 17th when the door opened to a woman in her late 40s, holding a small child by the hand, and staring right at him with the same, cold stare he was all too familiar with. "This is your sister, Jennifer," she announced. "Babysit her over the weekend, I can't afford her tagging along. I'll be back on Monday."
The moment the door shut, Robert knew he was never going to see his mother again. He could not afford raising a child, he could barely afford food and a place to live at this point. Still, he could not bear the thought of allowing another person to go through what he did. Let alone his little sister. An innocent little girl, with curls resembling his own, only blonde, and big doe eyes, just staring up at him. As if she knew. She could not be over 3 years old... And she had already seen enough. Robert would not let her experience a childhood like his own. Perhaps he was naive to believe that he could actually support a child in his financial condition, but he could at least try.. Better to grow up poor and loved, than poor and hated.
Accent/Voice: Example 1 / Example 2
"The worst things in life come free to us."
-Ed Sheeran