ɪɴᴄᴀʀɴᴀᴛᴇs 〈 Ω 〉 ᴀᴅᴠᴀɴᴄᴇᴅ ʀᴘ discussion

➸ Name My full name is Cameron, although I would prefer if you called me Cam. I chose to redact my last name for privacy reasons.
➸ Activity Level While it may not seem so at the moment (I'm currently on my winter break and have finals immediately after, so I've been studying like a madman) I typically am online every day at some point throughout it. The majority of that time is mobile, although for a good chunk of time I am online on my laptop.
➸ Past Experience I've been the owner of many many many groups, and a moderator for even more (including "advanced" and "semi-advanced" groups). Fiend can vouch for me right fiend
➸ Why You Want to be a Mod I'm very interested in this plotline and concept and I think I can help out here and there.

➸ Roleplay / Writing Example
(view spoiler)[
Natalie ran in the shadows of the buildings, her feet thudding along the cracked concrete sidewalk. Her chest was heaving up and down and everything seemed to be brought into clearer focus as she kept moving and centered on only running, not trying to use her power. Nat had found a while back that her power had a drawback, much like the kick of a gun. After using her power extensively she would find her cognition slowed, and it would be harder to achieve her motive or goal. When testing in V.O.L.K.E. she would often times find herself doubling over with migraines or her body would give out on her, leaving her unconscious on the floor. Since then she's learned to control the feedback, if you will, making it more manageable. This didn't mean that her head wasn't throbbing, though.

The girl passed another streetlight, her shadow dancing along the equally-cracked asphalt road. She stole a glance to her left to see if Wren was still chasing her, but saw no other shadows. It was as though he simply vanished. Natalie kept running regardless, but in her moment of thought she didn't notice the completely visible boy lunging toward her. Nat hit the ground hard, letting out a shout and immediately began to fight. Wren kept a strong grip on her and after a few seconds she realized it would be futile. Natalie listened to his words intently, the only sound coming from her being a soft groan and the quick, shallow breaths she was taking. Her wrist and elbow were on fire, sharp pain shooting through it as she panicked. Natalie's face was still pressed against the concrete, her brown hair, seeming even darker now without a streetlight immediately nearby, splayed out like a curtain of sorts. After Wren stopped speaking she was silent for a few more moments, composing herself. "Three weeks?" She muttered to herself, practically laughing. "You've been tracking me for three weeks?"

Her breathing slowed and she winced in pain, shifting underneath him. "You really know how to charm a lady, huh?"
(hide spoiler)]

➸ Name: Res
➸ Activity Level: Pretty active, on almost everyday.
➸ Past Experience: I have a lot of experience in both creating a group and maintaining. For example: The Fae, Fairy Tale Madness, Bound, Island of Atlas, The Kingdoms, etc.
➸ Why You Want to be a Mod:I love the group, good with greek mythology, love reviewing characters, helping members and keeping everyone in check. I also would love to contribute to the plot and add more drama if allowed.
➸What I can do yo help: Review characters, add to the plot, keep the place active, invite members, keep everything organized and easily accessible, answer member questions and solve any disputes that may arise.
➸ Roleplay / Writing Example:(view spoiler)[Augustus dreaded every single minute he had to remain with Lord Wellington. The man seem to talk for hours. He simply ignored him as he watched the Prince carrying off Lady Charlotte who to his delight was quiet clever. She knew the right moment to exit from the conversation and she used her fiancé to do it. He found himself watching the young couple as they danced on the ballroom.

“Lord Breckenridge, I am truly glad you came. “ Lady Grant, wife of General Grant said as she had apparently appeared during the period he had been ignoring Wellington.

“It is true, why all the ladies seemed quiet glad to finally see the mysterious Lord Breckenridge.” Lord Wellington said with hidden distaste. He obviously didn’t like that the ladies were more interesting in Augustus rather than him. That brought a smile to Augustus’s face.

“I was happy to able to come Lady Grant. You have truly outdone yourself." Augustus said with a humbling smile as he looked at her, making her blush. “And I’m afraid to disappoint but I am truly not mysterious at all. It more that I have be preoccupied with business.” he added with a grin.

“Why thank you. I must, later, introduce you to my daughter Lady Lillian.” Lady Grant spoke. And so it began, Lady Grant told him a bit about Lillian to make her daughter more appealing. And from there he simply tuned her and Wellington out who seemed more interested in what Lady Grant said about her daughter.

“I had no idea, Lady Lillian was so talented with the violin. I must hear her play.” Lord Wellington seems to insist.

“Would you like to hear her as well Lord Breckenridge?” Lady Grant asked to testing his interest.

“If Lady Lillian is willing, it would be an honor to hear her play. “ Augustus replied with a smile, thinking this was a good way to escape them both.

“I shall go to her now then.” Lady Grant said so happy as if she won something as she scurried off to find her daughter. (hide spoiler)]

➸ Name ╾ Corina, but I answer to a lot of different things.
➸ Activity Level ╾ I'm on much more than I should be fairly often, usually once a day at the least if I'm not overly busy and as long as I have wifi.

➸ Past Experience
‧ The Neitherlands
‧ The Young Elites
‧ House of Cards
‧ Ovalith Academy
‧ A few now-dead groups (including sister Camp Half Blood and Camp Jupiter groups) and some since deleted groups.
I know it doesn't look like much, but I like to apply to mod only groups that I'm genuinely interested in and want to see grow and develop, so that I'm not overwhelmed with a bunch of groups and can devote time to those few I truly enjoy.
➸ Why You Want to be a Mod ╾ I am a giant fan of mythology in general, and especially of greek mythology. I loved greek mythology even before PJO came out, though of course that just made them more accessible to little elementary school aged me. I love the concept of the group, and it's not the usual vein people take greek myth based roleplays into - and obviously, that's a very good thing. I really love how there's a firm foundation for this group, but plenty of room to expand and be creative.
➸ What Can You Do to Help ╾ Like I said before, giant mythology fan. I'm the dork who googles myths for fun and watches history channel. So sue me. What I don't know, I know how to find from reliable sources. I'm fairly good at coming up with plotlines, both individual, collaborative, and overall. Reading over characters and approving is a guilty pleasure of mine. Normal mod duties are nearly second nature to me (spam, lists, etc), and I'm more than willing to help with anything in that regard.

➸ Roleplay / Writing Example ╾ Both of these are about my average, though I sometimes I write more.
(a) (view spoiler)[Barely five seconds had passed since her stupid little scare, and Juliana once again heard footsteps approaching in the hallway outside. Except this time, they were erratic, angry - they sounded like the steps of someone who had lost something to wild abandon, running down the hall with nothing left except whatever emotion they were carrying with them. And this time, they did not carry on past this doorway, they did not recede into the distance, the clicks of heels on the cool marble did not fade.

The door slammed open.

The girl who entered the room was angry, angry and hurt and full of raw grief and simple wrath. She was pretty, that much was clear, with pale skin and dark hair and dark pink lips, her dress an elegant confection and screaming of fairy tales - Snow White, Snow White, with hair like raven's wings and skin like snow. The phrase floated, unbidden, through Juliana's mind. The royal she was supposed to care of this week, presumably. And in the two seconds it took Juliana to take all of Heather in, Heather had spotted her maid.

"Get out." Simple, direct... Frightening. This girl was wild, a monster, and Juliana's hands shook. She was frozen in place, eyes wide, mouth open, words - stupid, introductory words, phrases that had no meaning, blind, foolish, stupid stupid stupid - words lodged in her throat cutting off her breath, leaving no room for that oxygen essential to rationale and function. Juliana's feet would not move, torn between desires. Run, flee, do as the other girl said, leave this room with Heather's angry eyes and rough, bruising words, get out get out get out. Every muscle strained to do just so. But her mind, the inherent kindness, Juliana's heart - these all strained to comfort the girl that had just fallen to her knees with a contorted face. All the anger had drained from Heather, and in its place was sadness, grief, guilt, all layered one on top of the other like a finely made painting, each new stroke of the paintbrush adding a new hue.

There were tears on Heather's face, smearing the eyeliner and mascara, leaving faintly grey tracks on the girls now pale cheeks.

Juliana's shoes felt glued to the marble. Heather did not move either.

And then Juliana did - stepping forward thoughtlessly, dropping to her knees beside the girl. And then, though her hands still shook, Juliana placed one on the girl's shoulder, trying to offer her what silent support and understanding she could, despite the tremor in her fingers. Despite the wide eyes and the bruises she could still feel from the other girl's anger. (hide spoiler)]

(b) (view spoiler)[She waited. For a moment, all Lillian felt was doubt, and a hopelessness at her challenge, a feeling of loss that stemmed from a challenge accepted but not yet reciprocated. She waited, staring at his eyes, and then the spark caught. His acceptance, his answer, his second of triumph were all suspended infinitely in his eyes. The hopelessness fell away, the doubt replaced by a knowledge that those words were the right words. Those words that had sprung unbidden from her lips, pushed out of the swirling mess of letters and vowels and traditions stuck forever in her head. Why those two words?

It didn't matter. What mattered was the smooth grey rock James was suddenly pressing into her hand. It was round, streaked with strands of darker grey mineral, the remnants of fine sand falling away from between their fingers as he curled hers around the rock. His arm was looped around her own, showing her how to draw it back so that all the energy, all that power she hadn't realized was there, was suddenly coiled and ready. Lillian could feel his breath stirring the dark strands of hair above her ear, quiet, almost comforting.

The moment of release came with a snap that sent the rock flying out across the still water. He led her wrist forward, flicked the rock through the air, letting it skim across the glassy water five, six, no, seven times.

When it sank, it felt as though some of her mistakes, her regrets and pains, had been tied to that rock, and when he had helped her hurl them across the water, the string didn't break. They were the color of the water, clear and invisible, but she saw them sink down with the rock, lost in the ripples that radiated out from the points of impact. Not all of them had gone flying between swaths of blue - water below and sky above. Some were still weighing down the cracks in her eyes, making them groan from the burden.

It didn't really matter. There was already a feeling a triumph spreading through her veins, warming her blood, lending a spark to her mind and her heart and her eyes.

Seven.

Where before there were only three. Three skips, seven, it shouldn't have mattered that much to her. But it did, somehow. She had changed the clear, uncaring visage of the lake seven times, not just thrice, and somehow it continued to matter, just like James' steady, warm breathing beside her head somehow mattered.
(hide spoiler)]

➸ Name :: Fiend, but you may also call me Sea
➸ Activity Level :: over 9000 I have no life, so I'm practically always here

➸ Past Experience
× The Academy of Mystical Beings
× Supernatural Academy
× Don't Sleep
× Crawl
× Age of Violence
× several groups that are kinda seasonal
➸ Why You Want to be a Mod :: I wish to be of assistance. I feel irksome when I don't at least try to be helpful if I'm really into a group. So, in the high chances I'm not modded, holla at me if you still need help with anything.
➸ What Can You Do to Help :: I'm really good with organization. Like, super good. So, if you need something organized, or can't find something, I'm your girl.

➸ Roleplay / Writing Example ::
× (view spoiler)[Had it really only been ten years? Michal had a habit of counting the days to the anniversary, and he was quite amazed that it had passed for the tenth time. The first time he watched his parents shuffle up to the house, or where the house once stood, he'd been phasing in and out. It'd taken him some time to get used to the whole "being dead" thing, and he could barely keep his form. He wanted to go over and speak to them, say they could keep coming back and he'd always be there, like old times, but as he watched their faces, he realized that they needed their peace.

The peace he had yet to find

He realized that it would eat them up inside if they thought his soul couldn't find peace, so he let them be. Better let them think that he'd moved on to a better sort of afterlife rather than the one he'd found. The one filled with anger, hate, and that tunnel at the end. It wasn't filled with light, but darkness, and it was sucking him just a bit more everyday.

The first time he'd ventured into it, he'd had a hard time coming back. He couldn't seem to find that urge to go back, but he knew, he knew that where he was wasn't meant for his soul. So he shut the door, and bolted back into his existence of perpetual wandering. Which is what left him where he is now, strumming absently on a guitar in an empty house. It took them two years before they built over the stop his house had been once. He'd met a few wandering souls in that time, and when they'd heard the news, they booked it. He managed to stop one before they left and they explained that his soul would be stuck here once the new house was built. He had the chance to leave, but he didn't take it. Mostly because that door was still there, floating in the empty space neither seen or noticed by human eyes.

See, he had a game. He'd scare off everyone that tried to buy the house, so that they'd stay away from that door. He figured it would have the same effect on people, like in the movies. Only, he'd learned that so far, being a ghost was nothing like what the movies portrayed. Sure, he could walk through walls, make things move with determination and will, and disappear from sight. Touching people was something he had yet to be able to do, but he heard that was possible. Maybe.

So, back to the present, he's sitting on the kitchen counter behind the agent. He usually looked over his shoulder to see when people were coming in, so that he had time to put something new together. His eyes landed on the name on the page, and he glared down at the date. Today. There was already a big red mark next to it, meaning that whoever it was must have bought it already. Great. (hide spoiler)]

× (view spoiler)[The biggest event of her life had been coming in, and fast. Andromeda's sisters had always boasted being there for the sighting of ships, and she had yet to see one. Her scales must have been green with envy, because they continued goading her with the marvels of the iron whales that floated atop the water. She'd pursed her lips and let them have their fun chatting about what they might do afterwards. It wasn't like she didn't feel the excitement coursing through them, it was just that she never knew if what they'd been saying before could even be true. It wasn't unusual for them to trick her. Being the youngest of the bunch was a definite downside to it all.

So when she heard them swimming towards a massive shadow, she followed. It could be something that they were leading her to on purpose, another idle trick to keep themselves busy. It hadn't taken them long to realize that she was following them, but they appeared to ignore her. So, she just picked up speed until she was right in the midst of them, and that's when she'd seen it; the ship.

Freaking out about it didn't seem as impressive to her sisters, and they pulled her towards the surface to see what they were actually interested in: the crew. Men walking along the ship like it was nothing, hauling large nets and working contraptions that Andromeda had never seen before. The first thing she noticed was the obnoxious color wrapped around them. The bright yellow made her giggle, not quite what she was expecting when she thought of burly sea men. But, now she was seeing the real thing. This was what they were all so excited for.

It took her a moment to realize that they were keeping a certain distance from the ship, which was a little confusing. Wouldn't they be able to see better if they moved closer? Which was exactly what she did. She swam closer, until she felt she was hugging the large metallic invention. A sensation of accomplishment swelled into her, until she saw the looks of terror on her sisters' faces. Why were they so scared?

It didn't take her long to find out as she was pulled up into a net. The swell of scaled flesh killed whatever shriek was in her throat. When she could see the sun again, she was on the deck. Too shocked to speak, she gaped at the men around her, looking for an exit or something that might indicate that this was just a terrible dream gone wrong.

"What?" (hide spoiler)]

➸ Name: Aubree
➸ Activity Level: Very active (once I return home on Tuesday); I use an iPad for school and so am on most hours of the day because I'm a loser with no life outside of GR and studying XP
➸ Past Experience:

— Aurelia Auburn Academy for the Arts
— Yorktown Academy
— Utopia
— The Unrighteous
— The Happiest Place on Earth
— Exodus
— The Young Elites
— Survival of the Fittest (if anyone remembers that group...)
— And more on my old account.

➸ Why You Want to be a Mod: I'm already committed to doing what I can for the group. I'm organized and active, and have experience as a moderator. I absolutely love the concept of the group and where the members are taking it, and I'd like to make it the best experience possible for all parties involved.
➸ What You Can Do to Help: I can make lists, check characters, enforce rules, and pretty much do whatever you want me to, haha. I've helped come up with the plots for some groups (i.e. Age of Violence), too, if you'd like me to help brainstorm any plots/events.
➸ Roleplay / Writing Example:
Short: (view spoiler)[When General Ezra Rosendahl had decided to take in magic-user refugees from Asrar, he hadn't realized it would be this awkward. I mean, he was just trying to help people. But, he realized, he probably seemed like some sort of creep. A cannibal, perhaps? Like the kind in children's stories? Or a murderer or sorts? But no. Ezra Rosendahl was, quite simply, someone who wanted to do good, and also someone who went about this doing good in probably not the best way ever. Because commanding an army? No problem (except for the times when the king tried to intervene and it was irritating because who's the real war expert here?). But interacting with ordinary people, and normally? Didn't come so easily to Ezra.

But taking in refugees was easier when he had a large, spacious estate on a wide expanse of land. It was nice, he thought, to have come from such a wonderfully wealthy family. Nice, but lonely. At least there were other people now, even if most of them refused to speak to anyone, let alone the 'strange' (or so he had heard a young teenage boy call him, although Ezra liked to think that he wasn't very strange at all, quite normal, in fact) general who owned the estate. But taking care of people was more than giving them a roof over their head. It was making them feel welcome.

Which was how he found himself in the doorway of the guest room that the girl - woman, he corrected himself - he had come across earlier while hunting was staying in. Not wanting to barge right on in - for there was surely no better way to scare a new guest, except perhaps to charge them with a sword - he rapped his knuckles lightly against the doorframe to get her attention. "May I come in?" (hide spoiler)] — from Exodus
Medium: (view spoiler)[The friends-to-lovers trope: all too common in fiction. And that's what it was — fiction. Sadie Jane knew it. She'd known it all of her life. There were some things that just didn't happen like they did in the books, in the shows, in the movies. That wasn't real life. In real life, no one showed up at the doorstep soaked from the rain, and no one actually danced around when it was storming rain because pneumonia was a very real thing. And when something happened that was more-than-friendly between best friends, it generally blew up in said best friends' faces.

So her doubts were understandable.

Because things like that — things like this — just didn't work out in real life. Because in real life, when you kissed your best friend, there were consequences. Life kind of sucked like that. Maybe she was a pessimist, or maybe she was just realistic, but she couldn't see something — anything — good and lasting coming out of this.

And somehow, she didn't stop hoping. She couldn't deny how right this felt — it felt like something that maybe should have happened a long time ago. It felt natural, not wrongwrongwrong like the had thought it might. Sadie would be lying if she said she'd never imagined what it might be like to kiss Aiden — when your best friend looked like that, it would be hard not to. And yeah, maybe she spent a good amount of time convincing herself that nothing could ever happen between them because that's not how things work.

And so she was torn: because part of her wanted to never let go, to never let Aiden out of her sight again — and part of her was already running for the hills. Because what they had was special. That kind of friendship, that king of connection, didn't happen with just anyone. And she couldn't lose it. It was one of the things keeping her grounded, keeping her sane while she killed people — one of the only reasons that she was able to convince herself that Ymira Academy wasn't a mistake.

But then he deepened the kiss, and his hand was on her cheek. And for once, she resolved to act without thinking of the consequences. She could deal with any repercussions later. All that mattered right now was her, and Aiden, and how inexplicably right this felt. (hide spoiler)] — from The Unrighteous
Long: (view spoiler)[Oh my god, what have I done? was the first thought to cross Kenna's mind after sending the text message. Because okay. Maybe she was a confident girl. Maybe Jacob was her best friend who she could tell everything to. But this? Yeah, no. Not going to happen. As far as Kennedy could tell, she had two options:
a) tell him how she felt about him, or
b) stay best friends with him.

And being a mostly reasonable person (because, you know, she can't be perfect all the time; she had to give Leo some time to shine), she chose option B. Because really? Was it worth risking her friendship to satisfy her hormonal teenage desires? Yeah, no. Definitely not worth it. Friends was good, right? Platonic relationships, yeah, gold star, A+. This was a good thing, she tried to convince herself. It wasn't meant to be; she was a needy person, and he avoided (most) commitment like it was the plague. This was better, for both of them. And she had pretty much convinced herself of this before her phone chimed with his response: On my way.

Damn him.

And so, like the totally mostly reasonable person she was, she turned on the front camera of her phone, because hello, okay, maybe she wasn't going to make the first move but she was certainly intending to encourage him to make the first move (if there was ever going to be one). And having messy hair was not the way to get him to notice her. Not in the way she wanted, anyway. Because 'Your hair is a little - um,' was not even close to 'Will you go to the Fall Formal with me?/Do you want to go out sometime?/I love you.' And besides. She was Kennedy Anderson, and she had awesome hair.

Hearing the quiet creak of weight on a ladder (not that Jacob was heavy, because after that many years of friendship? Yeah, she'd seen him shirtless, and yeah, she liked what she saw), Kennedy had tensed slightly, quickly shoving her phone back into her pocket before he could reach the top of the ladder (because as many girls knew, it was important to look like you haven't tried at all when in reality there was a lot of effort. Not that she put effort into her appearance when she knew she'd be seeing Jacob. Psh. That was ridiculous. There were a lot of things Kenna would do for a guy, but yeah, no. Unless that guy was Jacob. Maybe).

And so, because she was Kenna, and she was actually pretty good at pretending (when she wasn't around Leo, of course... because her irritating charming twin could always see right through any act she put on), she beamed up at him when she entered the treehouse, because psh, as far as he knew, she rolled out of bed looking like this. (Okay, so he had seen her on her not-so-glamorous days. But that was before she liked him. Now? Yeah, no, haha. She wouldn't be caught dead in her sweats around him. She could be comfortable in style.)

She laughed, a sound that most people generally found either endearing or irritating. (Kenna was never quite sure which end of the spectrum Jacob was on.) She almost said, My brother, but Leo hadn't actually done anything wrong... yet. See, it wasn't about what Leo had done; it was about what he was going to do. Namely, beat her best friend to a pulp (and Kennedy didn't really doubt that he would). "No one," she said, feigning nonchalance. "Do I need a reason to spend time with my best friend? Or do I need to add myself into your daily schedule these days?" (hide spoiler)] — from Aurelia Auburn Academy for the Arts

Wow.

You guys just gave me the hardest time ever, choosing between y'all.

Why.