Indie Fandomless OC RP blog. Please read Basics and Guidelines before you interact. If you have any questions, come to me and I'll answer them to the best of my abilities.
BASIC:
Hi there y'all. You can call me Alex or Scotch. I may talk tough or any kind of trash but I'm really just kinda a fragile little lightbulb. I use the pronouns he/him. I'm 20 so there will be NSFW content making appearances here. Whether it's sexual or violence/gore/etc., it might come up. But it will be properly tagged and occasionaly put under a read more. Living in the armpit of america, I must make it clear that I will not RP smut at all with any minors. It fades to black at that point if it even gets that far.
FOLLOWING:
I am a fairly selective person when it comes to who I want to follow. OC's and Canon characters from a number of fandoms are welcomed, but it is also my decision to who I choose to follow back. If I cannot see our characters connecting on any level - even hating each other - I will not follow. There are other reasons but [shrugs].
RPING:
Y'all have read the rules so far. Awesome! Have a cookie. I enjoy writing my character. I enjoy writing with other people's characters. This is not an exclusive blog in the slightest and I won't be secluding myself to a single version of a character. I enjoy interactions of all kinds and I like to see how different people would take on a situation with their character. If you have a problem with me playing with so many other versions of a character, I'm sorry I'm not sorry. I only RP with mutuals. I'm sorry about that, but it just helps keeps things organized to a certain point for me. If it's easier on me, I have a better time on here. I like to enjoy myself when I write. If you ever want to turn a meme into a thread, DO IT. Just please please please put it on a separate post. I don't like reblogging asks.
STARTERS/GREETERS:
So I have the habit of making greeters from time to time, and just about every night I try to post a starter call. Mutuals that like the starter call with usually get something within 24 hour prior to the post. If I ever post something and it's tagged [ ic.greeter ], then that means I made it without aking a starter call. It is just for when I want to call out to someone and all. I don't make them as often as I used to, however, so hop on a starter call if you ever want. Or, y'know, just pop into my askbox. If you can't think of anything but you want to RP, send me Praying Mantis in my ask box and I'll make you a starter. Only you guys that actually read my rules will get this chance.
ASKS/MEMES:
I love getting asks at random about or for Taylor here. If you've got a question for either of us, please send it and I'll be happy to answer. If you've got something you want to say to Taylor, do it. If you just want to hit him, I warn you that he will hit back. But we will answer. For those mutuals that want to send a meme but might not interact with me much/never have before, it doesn't matter. If I reblog a meme, it means I want you in my ask box. Even if it's a shippy thing, I can twist and turn it in just about any way to make it work. Just please do it, yes?
HATE:
I want all y'all haters to stop here right now. If you're going to send someone hate that isn't me, you better stop it. Don't bother them and send it all to me. Get it out in my ask box. But just know that I will neither respond to it nor acknowledge it. It is for you to vent your whiny asses and get over yourselves. Don't make other people feel bad, alright? Tumblr is supposed to be a place for us to escape into the fantasy world. Let it stay that way.
Alright, I think that just about does it so far? I will always be adding new stuff onto here if I can ever think of another rule I want to pop in.
Personal:
Name: Taylor Semuels Age: 31 Gender: Male Sexuality: Homosexual DOB: September 9th POB: New Jersey, USA [no known city] Hair color: Dark brown Eye color: Right eye blue, left eye green Height: 5’10” Body type: Lean, slightly muscled Piercings: None Tattoos: Whatever he chooses to have on his body at any given moment. Usually there is a playing card somewhere on his body. Usually, though, he has a flaming ace of spades on his left arm, an open bird cage in the realistic shape of a heart with silhouetted birds flying out, a tribal tattoo wrapping his right bicep, and charred and bloody wings on his shoulders and back. Scars: Left inner thigh from when he was jumping a fence, fell, and the top tore through his pants and into the flesh when he was eighteen, just above his right brow where he ran into a wall when he was seventeen, a rectangular patch under his left arm, usually covered by his flaming ace tattoo, a slice scar on his ribs where he was near stabbed, a small slice over his chest usually covered by a bird cage tattoo. Living situations: A small apartment, somewhat well furnished, but he doesn’t care for it much. City of residence: New York, not much of a big jump from Jersey Can usually be found: Doing some sort of trick or small show on the corner of a street or in a park or on a job he was hired for.
Personality:
Usually a kind soul, Taylor is an upbeat person to talk to and a joy to be around. He’s got a somewhat sunny disposition, even though he owns very little to his own name and had a shit life leading up. He is not quick to anger or annoyance, but can be frustrated very easily, either if it’s something he is trying to figure out or something that has happened to him that he doesn’t know the reason for. During his working moments or any time he has to drop the smiles and interest, he’s silent and serious. A great contrast from how he is usually. Whatever he does like that, he usually won’t regret it later. But he can drop it easily and pretend that nothing had happened.
Abilities:
● Ink manipulation: User can create, shape and manipulate ink, including moving ink, change the color, consistency/viscosity between solid and liquid, etc., even if the ink is printed/written/tattooed. They can write/scribe/tattoo without tools by manipulating ink.
● Ink Mimicry: Power to transform into or have a physical body made up of ink.
● Power Bestowal through Iconic Imagery: Self explanatory, really. If he were to tattoo someone and give them a certain image, such as wings on their back, they would be given the power of flight. He can manipulate the ink in his own skin to make it whatever he wants and use the power that comes with it. Anything that he were to make as an image with the manipulation would seem almost real or become a superhuman power for the person.
Bio:
Taylor knows neither his birthplace, his parents’ real names, or even the name that he was born with. He had been moving around ever since he was young, his parents carting him from town to the next when something seemed to go awry in his parent’s life. The child didn’t know what his parents did for a living either, nor did he know why they had to leave each time they did. It was something that he rarely asked them about, something he rarely even thought about as he figured it was normal. They moved, changed names, and forgot the life that they left behind. It was something that his family did and something that he didn’t much care to know any more of. This lifestyle continued for almost all of his life, up until his senior year in a town in New Jersey. He found his parents gone from the house they rented and everything moved out. They had abandoned him and left him behind yet he wanted to finish what had been started. Taylor was the last name that he had been given with the move before their disappearance, and it was the name that he graduated high school with.
He knew of his powers somewhere in the middle of his high school years, a wandering and bored mind leading to him drawing on himself with a pen. When he couldn’t wash off the mark or even smudge it later on in the day, he had started to worry if it was going to last. A wandering mind led to an active imagination, however, and when he was in class one day and letting his imagination loose, movement caught him from the corner of his eye and drew his gaze to his arm. The mark he had made on his arm with the pen started to swirl and twist around, forming a small image of one of the things he was picturing in his head. Taylor had been caught by surprise and started to test what he had seen, finding that he could control the image. He didn’t tell his parents of it, didn’t want to be a freak or cause them to move again, only for them to have to do so later. In his free time, he continued to practice, drawing on himself and letting the ink morph into any intricate designs he wanted.
After high school, he wandered the streets and used his ability to become a street magician, using the ink to make a number of different tricks and earn money like that. He took up odd jobs and traveled around when he could, making his money where he got the chance and traveling to bigger cities so that he could display his ‘magic tricks’ to a larger and better paying crowd. The big stage could never be for him, though, as all of his tricks had to be done up close. Street performances were working just fine for him, or the occasional awe in whatever bar he was spending an evening at. Of course, there are days or weeks that he has to do some things that he isn’t, and never will be proud of, but that’s what it takes to keep living in this world.
As he grew older, he was able to further tune his powers and realized his full capabilities. Allowing himself to be hired out by certain businesses, he had been offered jobs to secure information, steal certain objects, and occasionally kill. It took years for him to get used to the latter. Now it doesn’t bother him. A job’s a job and he’s sick of living on the streets.
sᴛᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ʜᴀɴᴅs (Open): Main verse. Taylor in his early thirties, living in an apartment and spending his time either performing on the streets or running jobs for the people that hire him.
ɪɴᴋ ғᴏʀ ʜɪʀᴇ (Open): Marvel verse. Basically the same thing for him but just tagged differently and with the knowledge of the heroes not being from comics or movies.
ᴛɪʀᴇᴅ ᴅᴇsɪɢɴᴇʀ (Open): His own little non-powered verse. Instead of being able to manipulate it, he's a tattoo artist. Works in a small place, lives in a smaller apartment, but still has fun with the slight of hand and doing performances on the streets in his free time.
ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴅᴇᴠᴇʟᴏᴘᴇᴅ (Open): Taylor in about his late teens. Just a younger verse for him, basically. Before he had learned the full extent of his powers.
ᴄʟɪᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅʏ (Open): Dragon Age Verse. A former elven slave to a harsh master, Taylor's ears were clipped at a young age to seem more human. Later in his years he realized his powers and killed his master and their family, burning the manor to the ground as well. Doesn't live in a set place.
ᴛᴇᴄʜɴɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴀ ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ (Open): Supernatural Verse. Basically his mainverse with Taylor being either on the streets or owning a small apartment from the money he makes. Just explaining his powers and how he became a witch after his parents abandoned him. Just to be able to fend for himself.
Erik shook a cigarette out of the box, before sliding up onto the counter, nearer the window and taking in the cold night air he’d been trying to avoid. It wasn’t as unpleasant as he’d believed it would be and it might have done him good.
“I’m Jewish.” he said simply, still gazing out of the open window.
The black bold numbers on his arm should have been clue enough, he almost laughed.
Taking the cigarette and lighting the end, Taylor took in a long drag and closed his eyes, letting it out slowly and the smoke leaving his nostrils as he exhaled. A sigh left and a laugh followed as the other said that he was Jewish, shrugging his shoulders before looking down to the kitchen floor.
“Right. Not Kosher. It’s just what I used to do when I would try not to get caught. Cooking just a single piece would leave the kitchen smelling like greasy, fatty goodness.”
Though he said it like it was great, his nose scrunched the slightest, remembering the scent and how poorly it mixed with fresh cigarette smell. Wasn’t the most pleasant thing, but the end result he got was what he hoped for.
“It was either that or coffee, but you’d have to make more than one really strong pot to cover it up.”
Erik turned and promptly dropped his arms, a cloud of smoke still gathering around him. He leaned over and opened the window again, pushing it open further than it had been before, letting the clouds slowly seep out. Charles would know, of course. The man was correct, waving his arms wouldn’t get rid of the smell, it clung to him and through out the kitchen.
He should have stood outside and smoked, faced the bitter cold head on.
“I don’t smoke on a regular basis."
Usually when he couldn’t sleep, to pass the time, to have something to relax him during those dark moments after a nightmare or a noise had awoken him and for those brief moments, when his heart skipped a beat and his stomach twisted and he feared the worse. It was always nothing but a creak. A floorboard or the old pipes which ran through the mansion.
"Want one? May as well, the smell is well and truly here."
Taylor had started smoking during high school, a way to deal with the stress of moving around at inopportune moments. It was to deal with the anxiety and nervousness of when the next move came, and then after his parents died, it was to deal with that. He’s been on and off for the past couple years, tried to quit, but nothing helped and he always went back. There was nothing he could do about it, and to be honest, there was nothing he wanted to do anymore.
Looking to the open window, and the other Taylor just nodded as he said he didn’t smoke on a regular basis, going to the cabinet to get a glass and filling it with water. It was what he had come down there for in the first place, anyway. But then the other offered a cigarette and he couldn’t exactly pass it up.
"Sure. Might as well be an accomplice instead of a witness.”
With a smirk, he made his way over to the man, leaning up against the counter a bit before looking out the open window.
“The smell’ll stick to the curtains and any fabric until it’s washed, but to just get it out, I suggest the overpowering smell of bacon to at least drown it.”
“I supposed, with that attitude it would, wouldn’t it?
I—-uh, I don’t think that would ever appeal to a mass audience. But if you want to give it a try, by all means; help yourself. I would hope not, doesn’t sound that pleasant.”
“Hey – I told you, my tricks are better up close. Stages will swallow me up and eat me whole.
And if you think I’m serious with starting anything off with that line, then you’re crazier than I am.”
“Honestly? That’s a h o r r i b l e idea. I wouldn’t recommend it. You’ve got something better than that, right?”
“Of course – Not like I’m really looking for an opening line, though. Big stages and I do not agree. How hilarious would it be if I did say that in front of an audience?”
There was a bit of anticipation at first, his mind racing to figure out the trick already, even though it was obvious his companion had yet to figure out what to do. It was always a challenge to him, to try and figure out the trick, because he had seen so many be performed in an attempt to figure himself out, but each lead to its own disappointment. This one was different though, he could tell. The air shifted, a gentle feeling of nervousness coiled in his stomach.
Attentive eyes widen as the card appears out of nowhere, and while it looked to be a simple card trick, his mind made hast in instinctively wondering what was going on. Then the ace of clubs is lifted, and the with a blow it seems to change. Was it a trick, or something more? He felt the need to know.
“How did you do that?” A simple question that he doubts he’ll get an honest answer to. So he adds, “No really, how? I’ve—- I’ve seen a lot of these things. You’re different. How did you do that?”
Whenever Taylor started a trick, whoever was watching would always pay attention, just to see what he would do and to try and pick it apart as well. There was something strange with how attentive the other was being, though, something that seemed to be a bit more than just wanting to see a little trick done by a performer. Maybe it was just a heightened curiosity that he was picking up on. Whatever it was, the man seemed to enjoy it as he made the card appear and blew away the first clubs.
A laugh escaped him as the other asked how he did his trick, saying that he was different than what he had seen from most other people. He shrugged his shoulders slightly as the ten of hearts stared up at them, a flick of his fingers seeming to bring the card into his hand to crumple it up. The ink dissipated and the card vanished as it melded back into his skin, hand opening to reveal it blank and clean, no sign of the playing card.
“I’m not like most people with my tricks – I have a small range with which I use to perform, but in that range, I’ve done things no one else can. Such as this –” He lifted one hand and faced his palm towards himself, shifting the ink and forming a rose to appear as if growing from the palm. All that the other could see was a rose appearing from the middle of his hand, Taylor holding it in his fingers once fully formed. The other could touch it, but not take it, as the rose was a part of his own body.
“I really can’t tell you how I did it, though. A good magician never reveals their secrets to keep the wonder in place.”
“Good thing I’m not a mind reader, then." Oh, wait-does seeing souls count any? She thought absentmindedly. “I can only imagine all the shitty stuff people think.”
"People can just be cruel and unusual.” He nodded slightly to himself before looking back to the woman. "Thinking I should introduce myself here – my name’s Taylor.“
