((Open RP)) Rosies RP Prompts

This is a weekly article, delivered to you every Wednesday. These articles are intended to be a fun exercise as well as a good resource for role-players to explore Character Development so please feel free to post your own characters reaction to the weekly prompt. So be sure to stay tuned to this blog for future installments!

What are the simple things in life which your character enjoys?


She woke up with the dawn, her long dark lashes at rest upon her peach like cheeks, the suns warmth through the large front windows of her boudoir as it shone upon the silken expanse of her smooth back seemed to wring from her semiconscious form a sigh of contented laziness. She had been working laboriously in her lab alone on many a night recently, forgetting to eat or drink and it was only when dragged from her work to attend social functions that she even saw the light of day, but today she had decided to take some time away from her lab to enjoy a peaceful day at home.

She had been plugging away with all the usual relentlessness that she normally put into crime fighting into her lab work recently and into fighting in the warzone. Something about this research had taken hold of her in mind, body and spirit, she was closing in on the secret and this was proven in her focused precision strikes against the Rikti. Each Sunday like a requiem she would finally ascend from her perch in that secret lab hidden deep beneath her garage, she would drape her string of onyx rosary beads through her fingers and whispering feint prayers between ruby lips she would take communion at her local catholic church before she would descend into the warzone wreaking bloody mayhem and leaving only destruction in her wake.

With each trip Serena returned a little different, somewhat changed. Be it from the days in the relentless sun which beat down on her in the War Zone, her lack of sleep or normal nourishment these changes where so subtle as to be missed by most and truth be told they where shrugged off by Serena herself. The light complexion which had always been a bit on the olive side due to time working late shift at the hospital was now a dark tan which always seemed to blush with color, as if her blood constantly beat at the surface.

Her body had changed, become more defined from face to feet allowing her already flush hot house beauty to become more exotic and almost native looking, the angles of her face distinct as if drawn with the attentive hand of a great artist. Even her dark blue sapphire eyes to had changed, a strange indigo radiated out from the center and some said that when she fought against the Rikti these same eyes pierced her foes fixing them in a strange dazed expression as if she where another being completely holding them in stupefied senselessness she would then with her bare hands, rip them apart like so many rag dolls. While Serena did not encourage violence when it came to her ongoing battle with the deformed race of alien invaders, all bets where off.

All of these things seemed to react and awaken in Serena as she arose drinking up the sun, and as her eyes looked upon the flowers left by her bedside a hand picked bouquet of dark red roses, she lay a finger upon their softness before sitting up and wrapping the sheet about her stretching her sore and tired muscles like a luxuriant cat and tilting her face to her window with a smile and with a song in her heart she began getting ready for her morning run.

The apartment was still quiet, to early for Pearl to begin getting ready for school, the early suns rays fall across the spill of school books which where piled high on the dinning room table, where they had left them the night before when they had gone over a lesson in Pearls advanced biology class late the prior evening. Serena made her way through the apartment stepping only on the balls of her feet like a cat she descended the curving spiral staircase which separated her bedchamber from the rest of the apartment below. Stepping lightly taking quiet care not to disrupt the slumbering peacefulness of the house as she made her way to check on Lizzy who resided on the floor below.

Opening the richly carved silver double doors of art deco design, Serena pokes her head into the white and pink palace which she had recently redecorated for her friend. The ankle deep thick rugs where scattered with clothes, heart shaped chocolate boxes and romance books, the massive walk in closet which took up more space than the Kitchen and living rooms combined had its doors standing wide open and looked as if tornado Lizzy had hit sometime in the middle of the night as negligee’s and cocktail dresses seemed to have exploded outward from its source. The antique fainting couch of plush white satin had a stethoscope and a light pink mink boa tossed over the side while a glass of half drunk sparkling pink champagne sat perched precariously on the edge of the vanity where scattered upon its surface where tubes of lipsticks and crystal containers of Lizzy’s more expensive perfumes.

Serena only smiled at the common sight of her friends’ chaos, and tiptoeing in she picked up the clothing disaster, the stethoscope, books, chocolates and champagne and dumping half her load into the hamper, and setting the champagne, books and chocolates at the sleepers bedside, Serena sits down on the large round bed her eyes trailing over the vases of white and light pink roses received by the sleeper who is tumbled among the pillows and comforting quilts the angelic vision of her life long friend Elizabeth White.

Smoothing a lock of blond hair from Lizzy’s face Serena smiles indulgently at her friend who murmurs something in her sleep between bubblegum pink lips before Serena leans down and kisses her forehead and then with one last smile she stands up, closing the thick damask drapes allowing Lizzy the freedom to sleep in a little bit longer than Serena did that morning.

She had much to do that day; she had promised Pearl to take her to the aquarium where she had read about the arrival of the new Portuguese man of war would be making its first appearance. She and Lizzy where going to go shopping at the new boutique in Talos Island where Serena could pick up a new dress for her date that evening and Lizzy could clean out the rest of her bank account on shoes. And later on that day Serena would be spending the rest of her time until eight o’clock cooking and getting ready for her picnic with Eric. She had planned the menu perfectly after asking him his favorite foods and she had decided that the light fare of Rose infused spiked Horchata what the Mayans had called “Nectar of the gods” a thick vanilla drink spiked with rum, her Grandmothers Boston Iced Tea, Serena’s own special Mystic chicken wings, extra spicy, a small watermelon salad and for desert dark chocolate fudge brownies with M&M’s and a simple Baklava would hopefully entice him to change his mind about chicken nuggets.

Making her way back out of the now much tidier room, Seri closes the double doors behind her and after quickly dressing in her usual running uniform of small shorts and a white tank top with a red lion stitched over the left breast, she slips into her favorite sneakers, bending low to tie her laces while slipping her MP3 player into its holder high on her bicep. Piling long black hair the color of a ravens wing high atop her head in a tight ponytail which swings with the sway of her hips she descends the stairs of her apartment building locking up the world behind her and stepping out into the sun she greeted another perfect day.

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Okay, this one is tougher. I honestly hadn't thought of this one before, so nice challenge.


What are the simple things in life which your character enjoys?


Riley's eyes snapped open at the sound of the small clock alarm on the beside table. For a brief moment her blue eyes looked around the unfamiliar surroundings. The open folding closet doors which showed off her small wardrobe, the kitchen/dining area/living room/bedroom surrounded her as she sat up and rubbed the small of her back. The couch that folded out into a bed was almost as comfortable as sleeping on concrete. Sunlight streamed into her small single room apartment past the dingy window, which had a lovely view of iron fire escape, the solid wall beyond, and the lovely trash strewn alley below. Riley tossed back her bed covers, she was dressed in shorts, a half t shirt, and a pair of white socks, she yawned and ran her hand through the tangle of short blonde hair atop her head.


“You're not in Praetoria anymore Riley.” she said to herself and padded over to the small kitchette that dominated a quarter of the small, single room.


She opened her mini fridge and started the morning forage for breakfast ritual that she had some to strangely enjoy. She reached over and turned on the small radio on the counter top and took out a pair of eggs, some prepackaged sausage paddies and the half gallon of milk. The milk made its way into a glass as Riley surveyed the couple of dishes that resided in her sink awaiting washing. She took out a pan for the sausage as well as one for the eggs. She reached atop the fridge and open up her ever diminishing loaf of bread and took out two pieces which were put into her toaster. The radio station gave its tag like of “You're not super until you put on the Cape” and began to play some upbeat music which Riley half danced to as she cooked her breakfast.


Shortly Riley was sitting at her small table next to the window, across from the chair that hoped one day to be filled with at least one visitor. Still Riley smiled as she ate her breakfast she herself had prepared. No clockwork cook waiting for her order, no clockwork valet waiting to lay out her Lady Praetoria uniform and no clockwork house assistant had drawn her bath, which this apartment didn't even come with, just a shower.


A little while later, after Riley had cleaned up from her breakfast and settled the dirty dishes issue, she walked over, folded her covers and folded the bed back into the couch. She now had her small living area. She went to her closet and looked over what she would wear today, a nice skirt, a blazer and shirt completed her outfit for that day. She then took off her half shirt, pulled on a sports bra and Atlas Status t shirt, pulled on a pair of sneakers and a small electronic radio that fits on her belt. It allowed her to keep listening to the morning radio on her morning run.
A short trip down two flights of stairs (the elevator being broken, again) and Riley stepped out into the morning sunshine of King's Row. The neon sign next to her small apartment was finally dark. She started her run, and as she passed people on the street she was pleased to be greeted warmly by most of them. A lady walking her dog, a man hurrying towards the tram dressed in a business suit and even a pair of teenagers on their way to school. The city here in the Row wasn't bright, the streets were not kept spotless by roaming clockwork, and the skyline was completely alien to her. But, still Riley smiled at each person, greeted them warmly and sincerely. She even stopped to help an elderly lady cross the street to a small market.


Upon returning to her small apartment, Riley trots up the 2 flights of stair into her apartment and into the bathroom. After a quick shower Riley gets dressed ready to head to the Praetorian Embassy. The life is a far cry from her former residence in Imperial City, but surprisingly Riley still wears a bright smile as she walks the short distance to the Tram.
"Perhaps today I'll get myself a cat." she thinks to herself as she enters the doors of the Tram heading towards Atlas Park.


I hope that is what you were looking for. It took some time to try and determine what Riley did like about being on Primal Earth.

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((Great post mind, very well thought out, I''m glad you stepped up for the challenge! Its not as easy at it first seems to give your character some "Blue Booking" down time, most people get caught up in the action and drama to remember that without "ordinary" one can not have "extraordinary" ))

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Hero Prime did his best to remain calm, to not allow the tension of the situation to overcome him. He was up against a wily opponent, one who had outsmarted him in the past. He and his adversary had gone tit-for-tat for a four years, neither gaining the upper hand for very long. He studied the battlefield, brow furrowed in concentration. He needed a better strategy or the opponent would win. This was unacceptable. The last time they faced off against each other, his rival had defeated him soundly. To suffer a second such loss in a row would be humiliating. Worse, he knew the opponent would rub it in his face at any opportunity. That was the worst part. It was one thing to be a sore loser. Most of the criminals he met were. They cursed and pleaded until the little light on the ZigTag™ went green and the City Teleportation Grid yanked them away; they complained and schemed endlessly while in the Zig. But to be a sore winner? That was the only way to describe his adversary: sore winner. He would prattle on about his victory for days, weeks if he was allowed. If it mattered to the people of the City, the rival would hack into the city grid and make a public announcement over the city-wide comm channel every time he bested Hero Prime. It would be a spectacle.

Hero Prime was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans for this battle; his capes and uniforms hung quietly in a nearby locker. And rather than standing to face his enemy, he was sitting at a table, alone. This was a situation best handled by Mike Mars. Not that there was any difference between the two – he had no secret identity. Mike Mars was Hero Prime was Mike Mars. Oh, he felt more confident wearing the suit, at least in social situations, but he remained the same person, regardless. It was one of his strengths – or at least he hoped it was – to remain the same, steadfast, whether decked out in the garb of a superhero or copping casual in his street clothes.

His adversary, however, did not care. “Your move, Michael,” the rival said with a bitter sneer.

Mike lifted his hand and waved it in a quick pattern. The gesture-enabled motion sensors built into the table before him picked up his motions, and the hovering knight, a nearly weightless chess piece formed of silicon aerogel moved two forward and one to the right, taking his opponent's bishop.

“Check.”

“Really, Michael,” Martin teased. “That was a silly sacrifice.” From across the board, the black queen slid at a diagonal, and Mike's knight was removed from play.

Huh, he mused, shaking his head. How did I miss that?

He knew the answer, of course. Martin was good, one of the most advanced synthetic intelligences in modern Primal Earth. Mike had coded the artificial persona while still in the thrall of the Iradu. It was his Paramount Grandmaster project, along with a two hundred page thesis on the origin and evolution of man-made intelligences. When Sidney Savant freed Mike and prepared the way for his return to the twenty first century, the young man had given Mike a small, crystalline cube containing Martin's code. For the first two years after Mike's arrival in Independence, Kansas, he had no way to access the data stored on the cube, but with a little luck and a lot of ingenuity, he was able to build a device capable of reading the three-dimensional storage block. Mike named his newfound AI companion “Martin” after a certain socially inept, schizophrenic android, and their long-time friendship and rivalry commenced.

Mike waved his hand again, the gesture sending a pawn two spaces forward to threaten the black queen, but a pawn now sitting directly horizontal to the small, white warrior moved at an angle, sliding in behind it. The white pawn was removed from the table.

“En passant, Michael. Are you simply not paying attention?”

“Shut up and play, Martin,” Mike muttered, his voice grim. Another quick hand motion sent a biship sliding four diagonal spaces. Bait for the black queen.

Martin refused to take it, however. His queen moved ominously forward, from the center of the board to Mike's end, and took a pawn from the white castle formation Mike managed a few moves back. Mike's king was in check, and he had no defenders. He could have taken the black queen with his own king, but a knight Mike had failed to notice guarded it from an awkward angle.

“Checkmate, Michael.”

Frak.

Martin was getting too smart for his own good.

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(From my phone, might be interesting)

The sun, if you could see it over the War Walls, was just cresting the eastern horizon. A crowd had gathered on the beach in front of Plato's, a loose half circle of ten or so men and women stood waiting, starring at sea. Each of them stood next to a five to seven foot long brightly colored length of fiberglass and foam except one, an old man with with white flowing hair and beard stood next to a ten foot piece of laminated balsa and redwood.

Before the walls, the war, Talos had been the hidden gem of the East Coast, a clean, quiet boardwalk not as large as Coney Island to the south, not as well known,but one of the great family beaches. The boardwalk had always attracted an eclectic crowd, performers, criminals, con men, and families. In the summer of 66 a vagabond on a Harley and his barely pregnant wife rented the huge open space above Plato's and the bum from California noticed the sea, the slot between the the long piers. Amazing, a natural break created by an unnatural object, a body in fact, channeled current, mixed with wind barreling off the Atlantic he fell in love. He and his bride spent the next 40 years building a life in the town. The universe changed around them, their gifts helped the city, his mind earned them a living, his transition from mutated human to.....more, through it all his family and the slot remained the same. Then war, the family, and the walls.

After the walls The Slot was ok, better then most really, but not what it was, as the once dynamic bay become more stagnant trapped by the walls. The once mighty current muted by a series of filters and tunnels. The ocean breezes cut off. Still the rumors persisted. A few times a year, when he should have been in Australia or Hawaii he was there. Eventually a few hardy souls joined him, then a few more. The biggest crowd yet had gathered in the predawn light, a few had flown from the better beaches around the world.

"Jack, dude, you're sure...?"

"Trust me Duke, you and Bud won't be disappointed."

Jack looked past his old friend to glare at the muscle head staring at Claire in her one piece. "Easy Jack", he muttered,"she's nearly 22 and several dozen times stronger then that guy." His granddaughter gifted him with a knowing smile.

He saw the change, a slight frequency shift in the War Walls, the salt breezes from the ocean swept clean the Talos air, filters and pumps tripled their output in an effort to exchange the captured waters for those of the organic seas. The crowd rushed forward as the swells grew and Jack smiled.

The girl in the white and purple came up to the old man, "You going to put that gun in the water Gramps?"

Jack lifted his chin and breathed in the freshening air. "Just enjoying the karma baby girl, just enjoying view." He smiled at his granddaughter as he tucked the board under his arm, and ran into the sea.

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Jack Wolfe Prototype Super Tank, over 25 million in damage taken in the service of others
My 360 hates me and writes about it
Jack's X-Box's Blog
I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness for it shows me the stars. ---Og Mandino---

((Very vivid Jack, could practically smell the salty air, cant wait for saturday. And Prime very well done match up very quirky. Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to post. Much props to you all.))

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((Okay I know these are old RP Prompts, but I am working on the personality of this character and these help a lot. So, well I thought I would share. ))

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((ooooooo))

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