rpanons | You're all idiots except for me

Rundown:

rpanons is an anonymous community for role-play related topics. This place serves as a forum for game discussions, canon discussions, RP solicitations (ATP, game ads, open memes), and advice. The occasional off topic comment is inevitable, but please keep heated social and political topics to their respective communities. Posting them here will only get them frozen. Subsequent threads made to bypass a freeze will then be deleted.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

try writing apps fucking.

apps fucking writing try

try wrap apps

fuck apps

fuck me

Someone should write this as their third person sample.

they first meet by chance - thrown together into the same word document by the too-quick fingers of an indecisive moderator - and everything changes. The first app, a brief, bullet-point list of the bare essentials (name, wiki links, sample links), skips and scrambles into nonsense as the newcomer stretches along the page, atwo page questionnaires that explores every aspect of a character and no links allowed blaring in CAPSLOCK and bold tags. Their game weeds out everyone but the best, supposedly, and Shortistia finds itself jammed full of sections from the scrolling essay form - one here, one there - to the click clack and irritated sighs of the moderator at the computer.

Not there, a fragment snaps out of Shortistia's character section and everything feels strange for a moment as it's all back to short links and the core elements of a character. A moment passes where Shortistia becomes itself again; no invading sentences that fill out its lacking info, making it something else - something more - just those same, basic details.

The moderator drums their fingers against a desk and Shortistia trembles in waiting under the glazed eyes of a frustrated creator, craving sentences it never knew before. The essay application merely stays there, still and stoic even with its sentences cut and pasted everywhere but the right place as the moderator finally brightens up, smashing fingers against keys, new letters stroking the edges of Shortistia's sections as it blinks in and out like a cursor on the old, slow computer. Shortistia shudders as the heading OTHER - QUESTIONNAIRE makes its appearance beneath its SAMPLES section.

Questions push their way into Shortistia, flooding its new section one after the other - details, details, details that leave Shortistia panting and full, its bloated appearance unfamiliar and oddly satisfying.

The essay lies below it, silent and lighter than before.

Omg yay so this is like my journal!!

that's a terrible username

Like you can talk with those underscores.

this feels like i'm reading a script to a samuel beckett play

U might just be

You're all idiots except for me

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k

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