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Yup! I'm offering up my services to anyone who desires them. I've been writing fan fiction for quite some time, and have been in the text-RP business for a long-ass time; suffice it to say, I feel pretty damn confident in my reading/writing abilities, as well as the eye to catch mistakes and offer advice.
And just to give you a sample of my own writing:
A post playing with the Joker.
Fate. It is a simple word, and yet to all of the world it holds a different meaning, and that meaning can be the defining point of some people’s lives. He didn’t like to dabble in such absolutes, as he knew that life by it’s very nature was fluid and ever evolving -- something that seemed to elude the general world around him. They lived their lives in cages, all held in place by the shackles and chains which defined the logical moment in which they occupied. They were all so consumed by the concept of furthering civilization, of furthering their own lives in the hopes that some day they would leave their mark upon humanity. It was funny, at least it was to him. The meaning in which it seemed such thought processes held to the general masses.
To leave a lasting imprint on the world, to leave one’s mark upon existence itself -- the sheer arrogance of such an act was ignored by the world. He saw it all around him, and more often that not this mark had absolutely nothing to do with the betterment of mankind, but to leave a legacy behind so that one’s true entity never died. They sought to exist forever in the hearts and minds of those around them, to become an everlasting symbol of the greatness of man. Excuses were made for the atrocities commited in the search for such a defining aspect in one’s life that could be exploited for personal gain in hopes that it would lead towards this eternal prize. He couldn’t help but let a subtle snicker slip off the moist tip of his sharp tongue. Nothing lasted forever, at least not intact.
That was the true punch-line in their lives, no matter what they accomplished they couldn’t truly be remembered in the light in which they sought. It just wasn’t possible, nor was it entirely fathomable. History itself was something that was fluid, and ever evolving with discovery. Things believed fact were often turned to nothing more than fiction, and vice versa. Their trivial pursuit for everlasting and external immortality wasn’t worth the hopes and dreams it was written with. His thoughts had enveloped him, and the world around him and melted away, but then again that world only existed to him. He saw the cracks and the silhouettes of a truth long forgotten. He could see the paradigm in which existed in the world, the paradigm which controlled all things -- it was his gift.
He didn’t know what day it was, nor did he really care anymore. He found solace in the fact that no matter what transpired outside of those walls, the fear still seemed to remain. He didn’t have to do anything, and yet it seemed with each passing moment they grew more and more afraid of his very presence. A year ago, he wouldn’t of cared for such things, he was a walking cease pool of a dangerous mixture of hallucinogens and alcohol, a vision of a man who had transcended the world around him. As he had gazed down on the world around him, he realized the irony of all of it. It was in those fleeting moments that he had realized that he had become something more, something pure. He was no longer a man, but he was a concept.
His tongue slowly slipped past his cracked lips, the tip dragging in soft manner across his bottom lip as he gazed into the two-way mirror. He had never understood why they used them, what was the point…
“You sit, and you obssseeeeerrveee…”
The words slithered free from his mouth, as he leaned forward against the stainless steel table. He slowly pressed his forearms against the surface, leaning over it as if to loom over his captors. His face was expressionless, and yet the scarring and the peeling make up was enough to give him the expression of a rather feigned grin. Soon enough, however, his lips came along for the ride -- a rather devious grin stretching from ear to ear.
“It’s so funny how your rules are situational. If I were simply watching some one, outside of these pearly walls of yours I’d be a deviant, and yet here it’s your job. It‘s funny how the world works…”
He pursed his lips together, nodding in a rather solemn manner before tilting his head to the side. The door opened, and two lovely lumbering security guards walked in. They smelled of musk and coffee and they were dressed in a rather bland manner. The two hulks looked over the Joker. While their faces were expressionless, their eyes told the story. He could see into the very depths of their souls, and he could see their nerves slowly unravel in their presence. It was time for a play date! He could tell, as they weren’t the typical guards that stood outside of the observational rooms. No, these two were heavily armed and were obviously ready for a struggle if needed. Pistols at their hip, and it’s close friend the baton was cuddled right up next to it, he so enjoyed these moments.
They simply approached him, giving him little to no time to compose himself, as they dragged him rather forcefully out of the room. This was quite unnecessary, as he usually didn’t put up a fight. His last incident had been six months ago, and he had blamed that solely on the fact that he thought the guard was getting fresh with him. He had seen movies about prison, he had to make them the bitch first, and things of such a nature. As he was lead down the hallway, his show began. He saw the nimble blonde doctor fumble her way down the hallway, and he couldn’t help but watch her as he did so. Her body movements, the way her chest heaved as she inhaled and exhaled. As much as they were all observing them, he was doing some observing of his own.
The stood in the hallway, allowing the good doctor time to recover inside of the interview cell, before beginning their march once more. He couldn’t help but look to the lumbering neanderthals and smile, before lashing out at them verbally once more.
“You do all of the work, and I get the gal -- and you all wonder why I like it here….”
He said, his voice dripping with a rather thick venom as he was brought to the door. With a quick swipe of a key card, he was ushered into the room and into the view of the rather ravishing Miss Quinzel. The jangling of his chains had probably been more than enough to alert her to his incoming presence, and as he was forced into his seat -- both of his shackles were firmly attached at various points ( the table and the floor ). They had learned during the first week that it wasn’t wise to give him very much freedom, they had always come to regret it.
“Doctor…”
There was a bit of cheer in his voice, as the word slithered off his tongue. He spoke in an elongated manner, dragging out the word as long as he possibly could while his eyes remained upon the rather beautiful Harleen.
If you're interested, feel free to post here, or drop me a PM! <3
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