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undertale-rho · 5 years

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Underearth: Book 1 - Chapter 26

The outside of the elevator was relatively cooler than back down on the first level. A quick investigation from Frisk showed why, as this new level is much higher up, far from the magma below. Just outside the elevator as well was a small flame with two arms, two legs, and a face. As Frisk looked at it, the face of the flame looked at him.

"Heh. I'm Heats Flamesman. Remember my name!" the flame said.

"Uh, alright." Frisk responded, not really sure on what to say.

After the interaction with the flame Monster, Frisk flipped around and walked down the narrow passage, a precipice on either side of him. Not long after, Frisk ran into a slightly wider area that boasted two Monsters holding hotdogs, and what appeared to be another sentry station holding Sans behind it.

"Hey buddy, what's up?" Sans said to Frisk when he approached the stand.

"Not much. So, you've got another sentry station up here?" Frisk responded.

"Nah, this ain't a sentry station. It's a hotdog stand. Speaking of which, wanna buy a hotdog? It's only 30G."

"I would, but I've still got no money." Frisk said a bit disappointedly.

"Heh, you should get a job. I've heard being a sentry pays well." Sans said jokingly.

"Yeah, I'll think about it"

Frisk, wanting to get a move on to get back to the surface, turned to face the pathway opposing the one he'd come down. "Anyway, I'm gonna get going."

"See ya, then."

Frisk began walking down the pathway.

The pathway was long and mostly uneventful. Frisk looked around at the area while walking, noticing several strange red-glowing things off in the distance. As he progressed, his phone began going off from status updates. First one from Alphys was a picture captioned "dinner with the girlfriend ;)", the picture was of a catgirl figurine next to a bowl of instant noodles.

The next update was from a user by the name of "CoolSkeleton95". It was another picture captioned "ARE WE POSTING HOT 'PICS???' HERE IS ME AND MY COOL FRIEND.", the picture was of Papyrus flexing in front of a mirror wearing sunglasses. Giant muscular biceps were pasted onto his arms, which were also wearing sunglasses.

"LOL, CoolSkeleton95! ... that's a joke, right?" Alphys replied.

"THE ONLY JOKE HERE, IS HOW STRONG MY MUSCLES ARE."

Ain't that the truth.

Just up ahead was a branch in the path, heading left. Not much further and Frisk received another notification. "NAPSTABLOOK22 has sent you a friend request."

"Who?" Frisk racked his brain trying to figure out who this was but couldn't remember anybody who'd go by the handle "NAPSTABLOOK22", so he rejected it, and stashed the phone back into his pocket.

The area he had entered appeared to be a dead end, with an apron lying on the ground. The apron itself had a large heart embroidered onto the front of it, taking up most of the area, and a big, brown stain on the top of it. Frisk decided to leave it be and get back on the correct path.

Another little bit down the path and Frisk came upon a set of conveyor belts, one going outbound, the other inbound. Frisk phone began ringing as he approached.

"H... hi...! It's Dr. Alphys. This p-puzzle is kinda... um... timing-based. Y-you see those switches over there?" she was referring to three red dots that ran along the outbound conveyor. "Y-you'll have to press all three of them within 3 seconds. I'll t-try to help you with the rhythm!"

"No thanks, Alphys, I've got it." Frisk responded.

"A-are you sure?"

"Yes. You don't need to help me with puzzles. If I need help, I'll call you."

"O-oh, alright."

The phone-call then ended.

Frisk got onto the outbound conveyor and pressed all three buttons easily, de-activating a force-field covering the exit, allowing him to proceed.

The next puzzle was right after the previous, just barely down the pathway. As Frisk reached it, he got a notification of a new status update from Alphys.

"that's the last time i try to help with a puzzle lmao"

Good, about time you gave up trying to help me. Frisk thought.

Frisk then looked at the area, which consisted of multiple islands with steam-vents pointing in all four directions on each island with a large switch in the middle. Three conveyors looped around the left side of the area allowing for those that wanted to to backtrack without entering the islands, but the only way forward was through them.

Frisk looked at the puzzle for a while before making a move, touching the switch located next to the steam-vent on the section he was on. This caused some steam-vents to de-activate, but a few to activate. With his collected knowledge, he then spent the following minutes preforming the puzzle, eventually solving it, and landing on the other side. Once there, Frisk proceeded down the pathway.

The pathway here was just as long and uneventful as the start of the level. This of course means, by just as uneventful, that Alphys was constantly posting updates to her status.

"OMG? ppl think Mew Mew 2 is better than Mew Mew 1? LOLLLLL that's a joke right..." and "omg... DONT THEY GET IT RUINS Mew Mew's ENTIRE CHARACTER ARC" - "My Mew Mew 2 Review: Mew Mew Kissy Cutie 2 Is Neither Kissy Nor Cutie. It's Trash. 0 stars"

Funny how people here are just as opinionated as back on the surface. Frisk thought to himself.

Further down the pathway, Frisk heard a deep, slightly muffled voice call out "Hey! You! Stop!" to him. Frisk turned to see what the commotion was. Behind him he saw the same two soldiers that were blocking a branch back before he entered Alphys's laboratory.

"We've, like, received an anonymous tip about a Human wearing a striped shirt." The one with what looked like armored bunny ears said. "They told us they were wandering around Mount Hot right now... I know, sounds scary, huh? Well, just stay chill. We'll bring you someplace safe, OK?"

Frisk stood still, as he wasn't wanting to go anywhere. "No thanks, I'll be fine." he told them.

"Hey, like, we've got a job to do, so if you could please co-operate with us, that'd be nice." the bunny-eared one protested, all while the other, who looked something like an armored lizard, just stared at Frisk.

"You're wearing a striped shirt." the lizard finally said, causing the bunny to look at him. They both remained quiet for something like a minute after until the bunny finally spoke again.

"Bro... Are you thinkin'... What I'm thinkin'?" The bunny asked the lizard, who just nodded. "Bummer. This is, like... Mega embarrassing. We, like, actually totally have to kill you and stuff." This last one was directed at Frisk. Next think he knew, they'd both drawn swords and readied to attack.

Frisk got ready to be attacked by them, and waited. These two Monsters were heavily armored in plate-mail, just like Undyne, meaning Frisk didn't have a weapon that could kill them. Then a thought came to his head. If I could get a hold on one of their swords, I might just be able to kill them. Frisk got ready to counter and maybe disarm one.

"Team attack!" They both said, nearly at the same time before lounging at Frisk, who backed up just out of their reach. When their swing had finished, both their arms were just hanging out in the open. Frisk too advantage of this and struck the back of the bunny's hand as well as the inside of their wrist at the same time. This caused his sword to fly out of his now half open hand and land on the ground not too far away. Frisk dived for the sword, grabbed it, then swung around and stabbed the bunny in the chainmail on his lower abdomen. The bunny gave a horrible shrike as Frisk pulled it out. The lizard stepped back, hesitating as the bunny dropped to his knees and Frisk cut off his head. The lizard looked on in horror.

"Robert..." the lizard then looked straight at Frisk. "you...!!!!" he then charged straight at Frisk, swinging twice, then jamming his sword straight into the ground, getting it stuck there. While trying to pull it out, Frisk took the opportunity to cut off the guard's left arm at the elbow. The guard recoiled from pain, stumbling backward and collapsing onto the ground. Frisk approached with the sword to cut off his head as well, but mid-swing, the guard brought up their other hand and caught the sword, pulling it out of Frisk's hands, then batting him away with the stub of his left arm. Frisk hadn’t flow far, fortunately, as the path was narrow and the drop was far into magma.

The guard regained his composure and picked up the sword of his fallen ally and approached Frisk with it, who too had regained composure. Frisk dodged the relentless swinging of the guard until one swing that left the guard wide open, allowing Frisk to shove him. Hadn't done much and wouldn't have done anything if the edge of the path wasn't right next to where the guard was. The guard saw how close to the edge he was and lost balance just enough for Frisk to shove him again over the edge. The guard screamed the entire trip into the lake of magma below, and everything fell silent.

Frisk sat back to catch his breath for a few minutes before going back and trying to pull the sword jammed into the ground, but to no avail. After trying for a minute or so, he just decided to once again press onward. Wasn't long before his phone went off again with another status update.

"oopswait how's the humnan doing"

What have you been doing this entire time Alphys!? Frisk thought to himself.

"Top 10 Shows That Make You Froget To Do Your Frickin Job"

Frisk kept the phone in his hand as he went forward, as he figured Alphys was going to call again. Just ahead after a bend in the pathway was a barely perceptible thick black curtain covering an entire section of the pathway, an opening in the curtain corresponded with the path.

Must be Mettaton again... Frisk thought as he entered into the area, resulting in a pitch-black view of everything. Frisk readied himself for yet another adventure with Mettaton.

A Whole New World : Mount Hot

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#Undertale #Undertale AU #Undertale Rho #UTRStory #Underearth #A Whole New World

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archiveofolives · 7 years

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Ring of Keys and Other Stories I

A/N/SUMMARY in which liv tries to avoid coming up with individual titles and cool summaries for all themes so y'all are getting something half-assed lmao. just pretend this is a short story collection and the first one’s for the theme first impression which is all that you need to know about it actually. but this was inspired by a song in the musical fun home entitled ring of keys (obviously the only title i could come up with) and just a word of warning, if you’re planning to go see it, bring some goddamn tissue. set in the younger days of baze malbus and chirrut imwe, when growth spurts were still all the rage

RATING/WARNINGS g/mentions of sex organs but otherwise none. these are kids, what do you expect

WORD COUNT 3,489

AO3 here

—

Sometimes, Chirrut didn’t know why he even bothered to put up with his friends in the first place. Here they were, in the grand library of the Temple of the Kyber, a vast storage of knowledge reaching far beyond the system that they knew—and what were they doing?

“Holy…look at the size of that thing!”

“It can’t grow that big, can it?”

Looking at penis pictures.

“Well, maybe for an aqualish, it can’t,” Dama, one of his human friends, snickered.

In retaliation to this accusation, the aqualish Omi rose and batted Dama right on his shaven head. His two other friends, Kar and Lin the duros, threw themselves to their fullest heights in response and came between Dama and Omi before they caused any damages that could not be excused as a training accident. At any other time, Chirrut might have risen to help.

He wasn’t in the mood for it just now, though. For one, unlike his friends, he still hadn’t quite reached his growth spurt which would put him at quite a disadvantage and for another, he still felt sour over losing the private reading time (and what little of it he could manage already!) he had pinched for himself just because he, well, had to put up with his friends.

There was a reason, after all, why he’d gone through so much trouble to come to the library unnoticed. Following his afternoon prayers, he’d rushed out like an errand boy running late to his master’s bidding, employing the best of his budding stealth skills to sneak past the Elders and the older trainees without so much as a nod of respect.This was the most daring he’d ever been in his very short life thus far, the most insolent and worthy of punishment since he started on the path to be a Guardian of the Whills, but he reminded himself that all was fair in the pursuit of knowledge and the Force.

And knowledge, today, lied between the pages of a book called the Manual for Desire. Roughly translated from its original language, of course. But it meant the same thing either way: it was a textbook on courtship, marriage, copulation and maintaining the quality of life thereafter.

This was not a kind of reading that should be exposed to boys his age without proper guidance, and he doubted he had proper access to it either way but he’d heard it said that the Force moved differently between thoughts and intentions. It glowed to celebrate the birth of a new life and darkened around a person who was about to kill. Anger burned a black fire but at peace, the Force moved smoothly like a shallow sea. Since his first lesson about the nature of the Force, Chirrut had been quizzing his Elders about what it “looked” like and what it “felt” like.

But no one, not even the wisest of them all, had been able to tell him how the Force moved when one was in love.

At most, the answers he received were half-hearted simplifications—it was warm, it pulsed, it radiated—but mostly his Elders blushed, sputtered or redirected the conversation urgently to his duans when asked. Such a hodgepodge grasp of love’s Force could not satisfy a serious future Guardian like Chirrut Imwe. That was when he decided to take the bantha by the horns and seek this knowledge all by himself—for who better could he entrust with such a delicate task? And where better to start but in the Manual for Desire? Restrictions be damned and all.

He’d managed to acquire the holocron with little difficulty as soon as he’d located it in the directory. After loading it onto the viewer, Chirrut was on his way. Deft fingers swept past blue pages reflected onto the clear crystal surface that stood atop one of the holocron terminals in the circular reading table. The drawings of a man and a woman, a human couple, was done in the old way and did not move. But flipping through them brought them to life, and the man to the woman and eventually, the both of them out of their own clothes and into various positions that seemed impossible to achieve without aide of the Force.

Or at least that was what Chirrut thought, as he slowed down when the love story started, looking closely at the captions, at the figures, in case there was something he might miss. But all that he learned so far was where to touch a woman to please her and enhance her sexual energy, or how one should hold a “man’s stem” so as to invigorate him. Book’s words, not his.

He didn’t know what to make of them. It was obvious that the characters were passionately in love but Chirrut could not yet see the part where the Force entered (it would be years yet before he got this joke). The couple did not pulsate, they did not radiate.

He never got much farther than that, though. Sat in the middle of the dark reading room, surrounded only by the quiet blue lights of holocrons arranged in mile-long rows and ceiling-high shelves, he became the perfect target for a surprise visit from his friends. As it turned out, it wasn’t the Abbot and the Elders he had to worry about but the wandering droids who were programmed to speak nothing but the truth. That was how he was caught quite red-handed, staring intently at a picture of a woman on her back with a man between her legs on his knees, both of them quite naked. Chirrut’s first defense against his friends’ jeers had been to tell the truth, of course, for there was nothing shameful about seeking enlightenment—but to no one’s surprise, they didn’t believe him. They were at that age where the changes in their bodies were becoming a source of great curiosity. So, rather than he let the whole thing blow up and invite the attention of the Elders, he did the one thing that was expected of him: he lied, and admitted that he was in it for the nudity and the coital action. Then they believed him.

And so there they were, arguing about penis sizes and the shape of a woman’s breasts. Supposedly, it was a benevolent act of friendship when they joined Chirrut in his “weird hobby” by selecting holocrons of their own liking but Chirrut knew better. He leaned back in his seat, arms crossed behind his head, his legs up the table while he watched his friends jab and shriek at each other, filling the dark void with their excited voices. It occurred to him then that if he didn’t do anything, this might escalate into something much worse than he could handle.

Suddenly, his feet swung down with an echoing slam and the truest sense of purpose if they knew of any. He stood up in attention, staring across him with a look of terror and a sudden difficulty in getting his throat to work. His friends turned to him, all of their shoulders rigid like his. “A, A, A…” He tried to swallow again and this time succeeded. “A, A, Ar…Ar-Boel!”

That name was enough to invoke an immediate respite among the boys. As one, they, too, pushed back their seats to stand in attention, facing Ar-Boel. Dama went the extra mile of shielding the lewd images from their visitor with his body.

Except their visitor did not exist. What he stared at instead was the deep shadow between the rows of shelves illuminated and brimming with knowledge, each one blinking quietly, humming softly.

The penny dropped when Chirrut made an ugly snort, wheezed as he doubled over then bent backward with a hearty laugh. Everyone else’s glee trickled after him. Everyone but Dama who burned.

“That was a mean joke, Chirrut!” he snapped in his deep voice.

“Look at yourself,” Chirrut gasped, wagging a finger at him. “Your face shows plainly your thoughts! What would you do if Ar-Boel grows her womanly curves and you cannot command yourself?” he asked, shrugging with his hands. Then with a sigh, he wagged his finger again at the flustered boy. The rest followed suit. Sometimes, he didn’t know why he even bothered putting up with his friends but he knew it was because of this: he made them laugh and they all liked it that way. They put up with his jokes and his mischief.

Sometimes, he just wished they put up with his ideas, too. About the Whills, about the Force, instead of just dismissing it as classroom fodder. He loved his friends and he had many of them who indulged his humor, but sometimes he had the distinct feeling they didn’t love him as much to understand that even jokesters like him had a right to serious reflections.

The bell rang just then, a quiet and thoughtful don that penetrated the thick darkness of the library. Chirrut and his friends stood still to heed its summons.

Don, it said again.

“That’s us!” Lin realized in a panic, all but ripping their embarrassing discoveries from the holocron terminals. “Supper duty, that’s us!”

“Leave the holocrons, I’ll take care of them!” Chirrut volunteered heroically, unloading the Manual for Desire himself. “You all go to the kitchen now, it would be better for us.”

“But what about you?” Kar asked, his voice regaining its childish trill in his hysteria.

“Tell them I’m in the library. Save me a task!” This time, Chirrut could at least count on them to keep their actions a secret.

They nodded as one and bolted.

Chirrut waited for their pattering steps to fade out completely before he gathered himself up with a sigh. Too bad, how this all turned out. He thought that by asking them to go ahead, he could bargain even just five more minutes of reading time—but who was he kidding? He had to put the holocrons back, the chairs in order…

Even just returning the books to where they’d been taken from took him much longer than he expected—and much deeper into the library than he was familiar with. Chirrut was pretty sure that was because the scandalous volumes had led him right into the heart of the restricted area, like breadcrumbs drawing him to a trap where a council of Elders could be waiting to sentence him to a year full of chores for trespassing. At the very least. That was the nightmare. The good thing was that he’d had enough time to come up with a story for his defense and he had the size and the voice (and the face, he’d like to think) to make it convincing. Sometimes, being developmentally delayed had its perks, after all.

He practiced it in his head, rehearsed it quietly as he slipped the last holocron into its nook. “Respected Elders,” he whispered to his phantom audience, “I beg your pardon for straying from my path. I came only to expand my knowledge of the Force and in so doing have lost my way…” Well, that was half-true.

His task done, he hurried back away from the incriminating object, wiping the sweat off his hands on his trousers. A chime rang just then, like the shimmering bells they sometimes used in rituals which caused him to stop. It was not a sound he often heard within his usual corner of the library so he couldn’t say what it was for, or where it was from. Only that he hoped it hadn’t come to judge him for his unquenchable curiosity. Could it have come from one of the Elders?

He waited for the next jingle to come. When it didn’t, his tiny brave feet made a bold turn and dashed for the source. He decided it was time to investigate it—if the sound was the herald of his doom, he wanted to come at it like a man than to have it as another unwelcome surprise. Everyone in NiJedha knew he’d had enough of that in a day. Quiet as a mouse, he slipped down the dark, cold aisle between the high blinking shelves, keeping a straight direction as instinct commanded. The chimes came again but this time, they didn’t ring so clearly as they had earlier, as though they’d been muffled, perhaps by a hand. There was definitely someone out there. He just didn’t know who they were, or how many they were.

His answer lied at the end of the narrow path, opening up to an illuminated center he had never found before. More aisles of shelves branched out from it, like the petals of a flower. Dead center, aglow with rainbow lights was a replica of NiJedha, carved from crystals, sitting atop a blanketed pedestal. One of the Elders stood close to it, raising his hand to a bowing youth.

The boy rose, and Chirrut felt his heart catch at the end of his throat. For who else could be so young, and yet be so welcomed to be peers of the Elders and the Abbot, but no other than Baze Malbus himself, the best of his class.

This was the first time he had ever come so close to the darker-skinned boy who was only a year older than him, but he knew him from classroom gossips and voices echoing down the hall. He knew from them that Baze had reached the highest duan his age had ever achieved in history that in order to progress to the next level, he required a special instructor to guide him personally. His martial skills were impeccable and so advanced that he was now being pitted against trainees of a higher grade. And his devotion to the Force was so true, he once went a whole day without sustenance because of how deep he was in meditation.

That last one might just be a rumor. But looking at him, Chirrut could believe it. He was tall, admirably so. His back was perfectly straight, the perfect model whose inadequacies could be measured up to, but he had an easy posture with a slight drop of his shoulders that did not make him look so severe. Even his head, tilted just a little upwards, looked perfectly shaped under its closely-shaven hair, not too round but not flawed at all…

In fact, that was the thing about him: nothing was too perfect and whatever physical faults he had, Chirrut could not imagine a world where they could be called as such. If he ever had a scar, it would be because it was meant to be there, and not because he had failed to prevent it. His clothes hung properly onto his frame, not so tight that it twisted incorrectly when he bent a little to laugh with the Elder, but not so loose that one could no longer make out his broad shoulders, his trimmed shape. It was like…by being on him, his clothes gained the power to breathe. He was the perfect recipe, the perfect balance between all flavors.

Could he ever be like him? Small Chirrut, Skinny Chirrut with a voice that was yet to drop. Baze’s voice thrummed melodiously in his ears, full of insight, like he really knew what he was saying. He walked, and Chirrut was drawn to his movements, the way his graceful feet made it seem like the world turned because of them, that finger tracing circles in the air and his perfect head spinning with it as he recited a verse. When he wanted to learn about the Force, then he should have just looked for Baze Malbus—because he radiated. He pulsated with so much…spirit! And so much…knowledge and so much…life! This was the light, the enlightenment he never found in those books. Why was he even looking for it in them when they were matters of the past? They no longer lived and breathed the way Baze Malbus could. Baze Malbus! He could say that name over and over again.

He heard the chimes again, clear as the day and there he saw it: a ring of crystal shards held in his other hand, with the jagged teeth of keys. He, a boy so young, had been given those. Access to a treasure trove of lessons and wisdom.

At the end of his speech, the Elder who listened intently nodded deeply to his ideas, and Chirrut ached.

Could he ever be like him? To have learned so much in so short a time, to be so respected, so bright in every way. He was the boy to be, the aspiration. He was…

Everything Chirrut wanted to be, and everything he was not. His simple knowledge would never match up to his mastery, his short legs would never swing like that. His clumsy hands with its stubby fingers would never be able to twirl like that.

How embarrassing it would be to even try and come close. And yet, here was a boy he could greatly admire. A boy who showed him that even at such a young age, there was nothing wrong about being faithful. About wishing to devote more of himself to learn about the Force that surrounded them, in a way that his friends, who looked only to the physical world, could never seem to appreciate. Baze could appreciate it, he bet. Baze would understand him.

Baze Malbus would understand him.

Chirrut was certain of this, for he understood Baze’s passion, his commitment. For they were his own, too. If only at a slightly smaller scale, one that fit his size just right. Could they be friends, he wondered?

Could he hear his heart saying hi?

With another deep bow, Baze and the Elder parted as friends. As the senior Guardian disappeared to the back of the library, Baze turned and started to the opposite side of the building. Those dark, sharp eyes of his swept over the empty room, past the boy ogling at his tall presence, hidden between the shelves. He stopped to stare.

Baze jumped back with a startled squawk, dropping his keys to his feet. Chirrut hurried out of his hiding place—he hadn’t meant to be caught in there!—in his panic, arms out in a pacifying gesture.

“Please don’t be terrified, it’s just me!” he said in his tiny voice. “I’m Chirrut Imwe.”

Baze continued to stare at him in a way that was appropriate for an Endorian ewok who literally just came out of nowhere.

“You’re Baze Malbus, aren’t you?”

Still frozen in time, Baze nodded carefully.

Chirrut smiled brightly. “Well met!” he said, a little surprised by the opportunity practically laid out on his feet. This was the first time he’d ever met Baze Malbus and in an instant, he’d been taken by his aura. Now they were acquainted. Soon they could be friends!

Baze offered a toothy smile but it looked a little too uncertain to be heartfelt. Chirrut should probably dial it down a bit.

“Uh—” He cleared his throat and looked around for something to break the awkwardness. His eyes fell on the crystal keys and he zoomed down to pick it up, setting loose a chorus of tinkling sounds. “Here,” he said, offering them to Baze. “You dropped your keys.”

Baze looked down to find them in his tiny hands, and with a flowing swoop picked them up with his longer fingers. That the keys made no ruckus at all, just the gentle ringing of music, was testament to Baze’s discipline. Chirrut was in awe.

He had to remind himself that it was rude to stare so he ripped his eyes from the taking hand and redirected them to Baze’s face. He was a handsome boy, or at least he was very attractive to be sure.

…was it okay to think like that?

He peeled his hand away from the keys. Respectfully, he stepped back, and offered a smile to Baze who watched with open-faced curiosity. “Well, then. Goodbye…then.” He wished he could tell him a joke. Leave him a souvenir to remember him by.

But Baze inclined his head, then once again, and finally, turned to leave.

Even his back was something to watch—the way he swayed just a little, how he carried his frame. He swayed back to the safety of the shelf, a dependable friend to rest his weight on when his own strength could not be relied on. Chirrut could feel his heart beating in his chest, fanning a fire that burned in his neck, his cheeks and his ears. Once again, Baze was a myth that could only be admired from a distance.

But he swore, in that one heartbeat their eyes had met, he felt like they were kindred spirits.

#spiritassassin week #spiritassassin #chirrut imwe #baze malbus #rogue one #liv does sa week #/combusts with panic #but yaaaay sa week!!!#backbone of posting format belongs to safarikalamari #ty friend!#seaofolives original #sa fic

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kikidoyaluhme · 7 years

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ok so this is a guide on how to twitter rp i know there’s one or two out there but there still seems to be a lot of people asking how it works so i’mma make a hella detailed one with screen shots and everything !!! i hope this is good enough for yall and helps you in your future twitter rp endeavours !!! it’d be rad if you could give this a lil like or reblog too !!!

ok so to begin: you’ve found a lit twitter rp, you’ve sent in your app & you’ve been accepted. now what do you do ??? well, just like a regular tumblr rp, you make your account. but obviously, it’s a twitter acc. obviously if you’re reading this, you’ve never been in a twitter rp before but if you don’t even have a personal twitter, then you’ll need to sign up. if you click here, you’ll see the sign up page.

(fill in all your details and follow the instructions as you go along, i’m gonna skip this part because i already have many twitter accs and i doubt you’ll need help here because it’s pretty much like every other registration for social media)

moving on, so you have your account. click the little icon in top right corner, [click here to see an example] (if it’s a new account it’d be an egg not an icon), then click “settings”, right at the top of that page in front of your eyes, it should say “username” and then a space for you to enter your username. now, twitter asks you to think up a username when you sign up so if you thought of a @ name for your character then that you’re happy with then you can skip this part. if you wanna change it or you added some random @ as a placeholder while you got your account set up then continue reading...

USERNAMES:

this is kinda fun because you get to think of some wacky names of if you can’t think of anything you can go with the usual old tumblr style “jfcname.” but twitter rp is kinda memey and wildt so people go with things like “DAB4KiARA”, “KiARATHEFOOL”, “KiARA4PREZ”, “WET4KiARA”, “LETKiARALiVE”, “KiARATHESCAMMER” and so on and so forth. the username is usually in capital letters, except for the “i”, i still don’t understand why people do that lmao but i just roll with it. so anyway, you have your username -- it’s available, you’ve entered your password when prompted now go back to your profile.

ICONS & SCREEN NAMES:

basically the icons are the easy part, just go to tumblr and search your fc’s name and icons. so if i was playing a kendal jenner fc i’d search “kendall jenner icons” and i’d pick one i liked and set it as my icon.

click edit profile. (x)

then click “change your profile photo”. (x) click upload photo and then it’ll take you to your files where you can pick from the photo(s) you saved. resize it, click apply and you’re done with your icon.

now your screen name. (x) you can have your screen name as your character’s name if you want, however most people add a celebrity’s name or a tv/movie character’s name. maybe someone your character relates too or someone you love or someone your character loves. the possibilities are endless. my character’s screen name was peter pan because he rly loves disney movies.

BIO/HEADER:

in that little section for a bio you can write anything you want, but people usually add funny tweets from celebrities or the texts from last night twitter acc. (@TFLN) and for the header, this is quick and easy, normally people go two ways - making a funny popular meme their header or something aesthetic-y. just google “twitter headers” for an aesthetic-y header.

now you’re done setting up your account, so pull up the rp main and follow the twitter account -- and if anyone else has their account in, follow them too. only follow people the main is following, obviously.

INTERACTING:

ok so the rp has opened and the admins have given you and the others a little bit of time to plot beforehand. so compose a tweet, press “n” on the keyboard if you’re on a computer. if you’re talking ooc, make sure to add an “/” before you type away just so people know and get to introducing yourself/asking for plots: (x) ps. please don’t judge my lame, nerdy ass example ooc tweet :/

if you get a bunch of likes, dm them & if you get some dms, reply... duh. make sure you add “/” to tell people it’s ooc. in the ooc dms, people will take the time to tell each other about their characters and then you’ll maybe plot a connection out.

now here’s the fun part: the admin has now told everyone they can start tweeting in character, so go for it !!! the tl will be fast so make sure to tweet a lot but also reply to other people’s tweets. most people will start off with a “selfie” and the caption will probably be something from “texts from last night” but as the rp progresses they’ll use an indirect compliment from another character in the rp. speaking of selfies; make sure to rt and fave everyone’s -- it’s just common courtesy now !!!

dming in character has gotten a lot better because twitter took away the character limit, you can start a para and make it as long as you want because, like said, there’s no limit! go wildt !!! you’ll know someone is dming you in character because there won’t be a “/” beforehand. also, i think i mentioned this up there, but twitter rps are kinda memey so it’d be a good idea to save a bunch of memes for reaction pics etc. just don’t be too memey bc that’s kinda annoying lmao.

ETC;

so anyways that was long rip but i hope you have a better understanding of twitter rp now. click here to be redirected to a fcs for twitter rp masterlist. click here for tfln’s (text from last night) twitter acc.

#rpt #rph #twitter rp #appless rp #how to twitter rp #this took so long pls reblog :(#~

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