Roleplay By Monologues

Status
Not open for further replies.
Snarling inwardly at the feeling that something was blunting her effect upon the retired sailor, the Shapechanger decided to resort to a tactic not dependent on supernatural force: playing on her target's masculine desire to rescue women in distress.

Helping out in the kitchen, "Brenda" purposely sliced her left palm with a knife she had been using to cut up zucchini, doing this at a time when Copperfox would be there to hear her convincing theatrical yelp of pain.

Reacting at once, Copperfox made her sit on a stool, while he pressed a clean dishtowel against her wound--right out of his old Boy Scout Handbook, direct pressure to stop the bleeding. At the same time, he lifted her left arm above her head so as to reduce the pressure tending to leak blood. He called over his shoulder for an ambulance to be summoned.

"I'll be all right," said the Shapechanger with the air of a brave sufferer. At the same time, she shifted slightly where she sat, so that her knees were touching the legs of the man standing over her. If he noticed this, he was not showing it. She expected that he did notice, but that he would have considered it wildly inappropriate to react to it at such a time.

Once he felt sure that she was calm, Copperfox asked, "Brenda, do you know who The Grey Eagle is?"

She nodded--still playing the brave sufferer, while pushing her knees more firmly against him. "That's you! You've hardly made a strict secret of it."

Half-smiling, Copperfox proceeded without more preamble to _become_ The Grey Eagle. "Yeah, I always liked the way The Fantastic Four went ahead and let _their_ actual identities be known." His transformation complete, The Grey Eagle used his temperature-control power to _freeze_ the blood in the incision wound, stopping the bleeding entirely. "I'm afraid that's not a true healing, but it will keep you out of danger while the EMT's are getting here."

"Brenda" gave him a smile which, though stripped of supernatural force for the present, still could have a human effect on a human being. "You're so _good_ to me, Mr. Ravitts...would you mind if I call you Joe?"

"Sure, that's okay," he said, while slowly easing his legs away from her knees. Also lowering and releasing her hand, since it no longer needed to be raised.
 
A friend (actually the ONLY friend) reminded Mike Tyson that if he was going to beat up the "change" party hacks, it would actually be for a reason. Mike said: "uh? oh, well, I'll just assume there's no reason at all. Wild that work?"
His friend said that will work.
"Good," said Mike. Then he added, "can I bite their ears off too?"
 
Last edited:
The group of old Hobbits had sat on their porch for the last 30 years watching the world go by and they were not planning to move no matter how hard Lex Luthor tried to make them. After exhausting his supplies of Kryptonite Lex finally realized that Kryptonite didn't work on Hobbits and began searching Coruscant for something that did.
 
Mike Tyson's friend said it would probably be okay to bite the ears of the Change Party robotoids, "because they never USE their ears to listen to anything BUT their own cliche slogans like 'Bush Is Hitler!' "
 
Lex Luthor encountered Boba Fett, who told him, "That whole Kryptonite thing was born of ignorance, anyway. The gimmick was made up at a time when atomic radiation was nearly identical with magic in most people's minds--hence all the improbable stories of super-powered mutants.

"But 'atomic' radiation simply is electromagnetic energy, just like radio waves and visible light. You either get hit with too much of it to endure, or you don't. Well, I don't mean that it makes NO difference what the frequency of the energy waves is; but it's a difference of degree more than of kind. So there isn't really any place for Kryptonite as a set-apart magical element in real-world physics."

"What?" marvelled Luthor. "Then am I to suppose that all the times when Superman seemed close to dying because of Kryptonite, he was--what, _imagining_ it? Like he's a _hypochondriac?_"

"That's no more improbable than the original Kryptonite concept."
 
Mara Jade rolled her eyes and knocked both of them on the head with a broom. "Men and scientific stuff..." she muttered to herself.
 
Suddenly Mara Jade found herself grabbed up in an inescapable grip. She was in the huge hairy hand of Donkey Kong, who told her, "If you think you get to do the all-women-are-omnipotent-goddesses-and-all-men-are-helpless-dweebs routine HERE, you have SO come to the WRONG roleplay thread!" Then the giant ape hurled her like a baseball, fifty miles away. But Mara Jade was not hurt in her landing; she was cushioned and bounced up by hitting Rosie O'Donnell.
 
Suddenly, a girl who has not posted on any TDL roleplay for weeks reappears, reads no more than the most recent seven or eight posts, and proceeds to write:


Brenda the Shapechanger is really ME--the bagpipe-playing belly dancer! By playing my bagpipe while belly dancing, I bring Copperfox totally under my spell, so he is begging to be allowed the HONOR of serving me as a slave!


Copperfox, MGG-Took, Barbarian King, Songs of Life, Knight of Narnia, Primsong, etc., all ignore her. Even Lonny's pet duck Alyosha refuses to quack at her.

So she pouts and goes away for another two or three weeks, planning to come back after that and once more demand that the roleplay be all about her.
 
Last edited:
It is at this moment that another role player who has been absent for 2 years posts: "(ooc: I am lost:()"
 
Joseph Ravitts immediately writes up a careful synopsis especially for the benefit of the returned absentee--who proceeds to ignore it completely and contradict everything in the roleplay (for instance, making the bellydancer play a trombone instead of a bagpipe).
 
Unaware of the menace now stalking his friend Copperfox, Emmett asks Queenie if she can swim. "Not very well," she admits; "for most of my lifespan up to now, the majority of water around me was ice or snow. But that's another thing you could teach me." It suddenly occurs to her that she _would_ like her beloved to see her in a swimsuit.

Emmett makes a quick phone call to Panicky Mod Central. Upon hanging up, he tells her, "Okay, I got the scoop on what's required to prevent panic. We'll have to go to Bugs Bunny's invisible storage shed for this..."

At the cartoon storehouse of improbable props, Emmett satisfies his future wife's mystified curiosity: after a bit of rummaging, he drags out a bulky hundred-year-old deep-diving suit, the kind used before the advent of scuba gear. "I haggled them into lettin' you go without the metal helmet," he remarks, "which was as much of a concession as I could extract."

Queenie's eyes grow huge. "You're not joking? I _really_ have to wear _that_ to be allowed to go swimming??"

"Sweetheart, you can go swimmin' in a normal swimsuit anytime the narrative spotlight _ain't_ on us directly, and yeah, I _will_ enjoy that sight. But as long as our actions are bein' reported to The Dancin' Lawn, we gotta dance to the tune of the most panicky folks present. They got plumb fools who _actually_ think every man'll instantly turn into a crazed psychotic beast if he so much as finds out a woman's even _got_ a body; so to be able to swim while we _are_ onstage, yep, you gotta wear this."

Queenie reminds herself that she _does_ owe it to her man to swallow her pride; so off to the nearest available indoor swimming pool the three of them go--the man, the woman, and the sixty-pound suit.

But while they're wading in the shallow end of the pool, Queenie engulfed in the clunky monstrosity, Emmett stubbornly defies the paranoia so far as to show his appreciation to her for being so understanding: he kisses her often and amorously, actually _admitting_ that kissing her is what he's doing.

Near the end of the bizarre wading session, he turns to a Mod-Cam and shouts, "Yeah, and we _did_ make out on that country ride the other day!"
 
At a huge competition of drum-and-bugle corps, the Moon Dragons Drum and Bugle Corps took the field for its program: a show using combined variations of Sibelius' "Finlandia" and Mendelssohn's "War March of the Priests." Everyone was keyed up; a win tonight could propel them onward into the national finals.

Just when success was in their grasp, the girl playing second cornet unaccountably froze in place, like a movie freeze-frame. The marchers behind her thudded into her--and THEY were the ones knocked sprawling, because of the unknown power that was holding her stiff and immobilized, rooted to the spot. Four musicians fell over, and many more were driven out of place and out of step. The flag-and-rifle contingent began dropping their flags and rifles, as the music died a whimpering death.

Not even when the Moon Dragons went slouching off the field in dejected failure did the girl cornet player budge from her position. The Scarlet Squires came onto the field next as scheduled--but they couldn't move the Moon Dragons cornet player out of the way either. So the entire show had to be cancelled, and the audience members got their money back, which was a severe financial blow to all the groups involved.

Only after the damage had been done and everything was ruined did they find out what had happened: the drum-and-bugle contest was part of a ROLEPLAY...and the girl portraying the Moon Dragons' second cornet player had walked away from her computer just as the show had been posted as getting underway. This cornet girl, obsessed with pride and control, had for some time been adamantly telling all other players that NO ONE ELSE was ever allowed, under ANY circumstances, to write anything that controlled or limited or influenced HER character's actions in ANY way. Even someone else writing that her character could passively SEE something, was enough to make her bristle against "character modding." So, when she had left the action after just beginning her part in the program, her cornet character COULD NOT be moved ahead by anyone else.

Upon the collapse of this roleplay--not the first one the cornet girl had ruined by her domineering ways--she went back to basics: being a 13-year-old princess riding a horse on a secret quest that nobody male or adult could understand.
 
The Tin Man read aloud a bedtime story to Raggedy Ann:

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

I want you to know
one thing.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference

Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Inspired by http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/top_poems.html
 
Don Quixote halted his horse Rosinante, and stared in joyous wonder. He had found his Dulcinea!

She, however, told him, "Sorry, senor, you can't stop here, Senor Cervantes wrote a zillion more chapters that have nothing to do with me. It's not my fault if modern gringos think your story is short and simplistic."

So Don Quixote rode on, to ridiculous adventures which had never made it onto the Broadway stage, adventures which would only be seen by someone reading the actual book.

Walden Media hirelings kidnapped Dulcinea, to stop her from drawing attention to "the actual book" of anything.


Meanwhile, in another place connected with an actual book:

Rumors began to fly about the invisible Miss Jane Bennet. One of the most persistent rumors was that she had been kidnapped by a vampire and a werewolf, with each of these creatures trying to convince her that he was better than the other. If this were so, however, there was no telling if she even saw or heard the vampire and werewolf standing within three feet of her, since only one person was allowed to say whether Jane would be able to see or hear a vampire and werewolf standing within three feet of her. But there was at least one argument to be made in favor of the vampire-and-werewolf theory: it would explain how Miss Bennet could be logged onto TDL for long periods of time without ever letting her parents or Mr. Bingley know if she had so much as made the sovereign and autonomous choice to come back to Longbourne with the others, a choice which of course NO ONE else could have any grounds to guess at merely because everyone else was going.
 
Last edited:
Bat-Bat's alarms began to ring, clang, chirp, and whistle meaning the word "vampire" had been posted somewhere on the threads. Happily startled by the alarms and the prospect of more real work, he flung all the Bahamas brochures to the floor and began to zero in on the origin of the signals.
 
Bat-Bat was met by the duck Smerdyakov, who had also picked up something as a side effect of his tracking of evil gremlins. "My impression," he told the superhero, "is that there is not a vampire roleplay being directly attempted--but that, firstly, someone is permitting idle chat _about_ vampires to divert her from playing consistently in a _normal_ roleplay which she herself had practically begged to be in mere days before; and secondly, someone is being metaphorically vampiric, by sucking the life out of a normal roleplay for the sake of striking poses about how independent she is, how self-sufficient and more idealistic than men and not needin' any stinkin' rescue and able _both_ to forbid anyone else to budge her character one inch _and_ to refuse to move her own character herself."

The duck drew in a _very_ deep breath after that speech, then added, "By the way, Mr. Bat-Bat, that was fine work you did lately, stopping the Writers' Roleplay from _really_ turning into a vampire thread."
 
"Why, quack you Mr. Smerdyakov! I just want to be ready for any eventuality. But you are right. I suspected just as much," Bat-Bat said beginning to pick up the Bahamas brochures from the floor. "I will have to reset the alarms though."

Now, Mr. Smerdyakov, why is every duck purple now? Does this have to do with the "Change" party?"
 
A Ninja, a Viking, a Gladiator and a Pirate are walking through the snow. I pity that village...

The Viking comments on how wimpy the others are for commenting on how cold it is.

The Gladiator takes offense.

The Pirate cheers the two on.

The Ninja... where did the Ninja go? *looks around*

*is pulled under the snow by the Ninja*
 
To answer Bat-bat's question about the purple ducks, Lonny says, "No, sir, that has nothing to do with it. We just cloned Dmitri the duck, so all of the purple ducks are clones of Dmitri."
 
Emmett took Queenie to the movies...pointedly taking her to something that _wasn't_ "Twilight." It scarcely mattered what the movie _was,_ because the couple sat all the way in the back, making out.

Only when the ending credits of whatever-it-was were almost finished scrolling did Emmett and Queenie actually begin _talking_ about anything worth mentioning. They spoke about the details of their impending nuptials. "Jake's my best man, set in concrete," Emmett began. "How many total bridesmaids you reckonin' on havin'? I got to have at least Copperfox an' Bat-Bat standin' by me, and there's more I could add if you want a big bevy on your side of the altar. Speakin' of the altar, do you want to take communion durin' the ceremony? Copperfox did that with each of his wives at their weddin's..."
 
Status
Not open for further replies.
Back
Top