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Ylanne member of RPG for 11 years

Promethean Conversation Starter Author Inspiration World Builder Conversationalist Friendly Beginnings Novelist Greeter Arc Warden Party Starter Contributor Person of Interest Storyteller Beta Tester Builder Cult Leader Concierge Tipworthy Donated! Lifegiver

I like subverting the kinds of characters and stories thought of as "normal" or "default" by developing compelling non-normative characters in complex collaborative fiction. I like heavy collaboration on plot and character with all parties involved.

I prefer modern/realistic settings steeped in socio-political and historical context as well as darker, often grittier, storylines that emphasize the impact of both individual choices and external power systems on characters' relationships with each other.

I have completed several novels and have a few in progress. Please feel free to contact me; I try to respond within 24 hours. You can also email ohnoitsdark (at) gmail.com.
638,350 words written.
7,706 total posts.
82 words per post.
963 posts per roleplay.
531 average days in a roleplay.
8 universes joined.
9.50 INK received in tips.

Basic Information

Username:
Ylanne
Location:
U.S. (East Coast)
Occupation:
Public policy, law, advocacy, and teaching. If you're into literary writing, I've also been a panelist at the AWP conference and taught a workshop for The Muse and the Marketplace. I'm an alumn of the Breadloaf Young Writers Conference.
Groups:
Began Role Playing:
0- 0-1999
Favorite Role Playing Game:
When the Lion Wakes, Kohat
Game Master:
Yes
Favorite Setting:
Bleak, grimdark, gritty, character

User statistics

Joined:
Thu Sep 11, 2008 7:50 pm
Last visited:
Fri Oct 04, 2019 4:12 pm
Medals:
21
Total posts:
Search user’s posts
(0.00% of all posts / 0.00 posts per day)
Most active forum:
Out of Character
(670 Posts / 22333.33% of user’s posts)
Most active topic:
Disappearing Children OOC [Not Accepting]
(155 Posts / 5166.67% of user’s posts)

Contact Ylanne

Elsewhere

Medals

Promethean

Promethean

Successfully created a universe for others.

Conversation Starter

Conversation Starter

Created your first topic!

Author

Author

Wrote your first piece in a universe!

Inspiration

Inspiration

Another user created a post in a universe you created!

World Builder

World Builder

Created your first non-default location in an RPG universe!

Conversationalist

Conversationalist

Participated in 10 different conversations on the forum!

Friendly Beginnings

Friendly Beginnings

You posted your first topic in the Welcome Forum.

Novelist

Novelist

Wrote over 80,000 total words!

Greeter

Greeter

Responded to 10 different topics in the Welcome Forum.

Arc Warden

Arc Warden

Successfully created a storyline arc in an existing universe!

Party Starter

Party Starter

You created your first Quest!

Contributor

Contributor

This user has contributed in a major way to RPG, either through service or direct contribution.

Person of Interest

Person of Interest

Created a character that was later followed by another user!

Storyteller

Storyteller

Added over 20 posts to a storyline arc!

Beta Tester

Beta Tester

This special medal grants the user special powers, including access to exclusive new features under development by RPG's design team. Remember: what happens in beta stays in beta!

Builder

Builder

Became a builder in a universe.

Cult Leader

Cult Leader

Created a group with 5 unique players.

Concierge

Concierge

Responded to 25 different topics in the Welcome Forum.

Tipworthy

Tipworthy

Awarded for receiving your first tip from another user!

Donated!

Donated!

Successfully made a donation to support the costs of running our services!

Lifegiver

Lifegiver

Created a character in an RPG universe.

Universes

8 created.
0 active.
8 inactive.
0 completed.

Universes Created

A Strange Wasteland

Welcome to Farquhar Penal Colony, your new home away from home here in this lovely Asteroid Belt of ours. You'll get your grub, and you probably won't be our new bitch (stop watchin' those telescreens), but we guarantee you will NOT enjoy your stay.

Compliance

Troubled teens feed a multi-million dollar industry profiting from the exploitation of vulnerable youth and disabled people sent to "residential treatment" only to experience abuses for which the perpetrators are rarely held accountable.

As the Curtain Falls

A co-ed fraternity has a history of hazing, but this time, they have gone too far. Rumors of student pledges disappearing have been cemented with a student's body. (Literate crime/realistic/modern - NOT a school roleplay)

When the Lion Wakes

A notorious terrorist defects from a group threatening to murder millions. A character-driven roleplay in a modern/realistic setting, where you are encouraged to create subplots/plot-twists and explore dynamic interaction.

Most Tipped Posts

0.25 INK received for post #2757936, located in Government Center West Wing:

It had been nearly two years since Government Center had nearly been completely destroyed for at least the third time since the Terran National Government had labored to build the original structure. By this point, the first stones and cuts of marble had been painstakingly restored to at least twenty percent of the original, but the reconstruction process would continue on for decades no doubt. After the super-earthquake, rated at over 10 on the Richter scale, the super-volcano's fiery eruption, and four consecutive tsunamis wreaking trillions of credits worth of damage and nearly two million deaths across the continent, with the epicenter of the catastrophic destruction in Wing City itself, it was a miracle any reconstruction had succeeded at all.

But now, Terra would see at least some justice against Elijah Alexander Kenton, the maverick killer whose anti-mana plan had set the entire cataclysm in motion. He'd been held under strict conditions of confinement while the investigation carefully pieced together the exact extent of the damage, the names of the victims, and the way in which he'd managed to carry it out, beginning with, of all things, tainting the city's water supply.

For fear of an Aschen Reverence or another mass insurrection at the hands of warring crime families, Wing City's residents and denizens had largely not contemplated mass murder caused simply by one man who, lacking loyalty to one of these expected invaders or insurgents, only had intense loathing for all things magical and an incredible lack of patience and restraint.

The trial was set for Annex Courtroom Two, in Government Center's West Wing, originally home to displaced and not-yet-assigned TNG employees in the nation's early days, and now used only for trials expected to attract as large an audience as this one. The press swarmed the path leading to the West Wing, cameras flashing as commentators gave quick-paced rundowns of the major players here today.

There was the Honorable Akosua Nkrumah Acheampong, Chief Justice of Wing City Superior Court, who ordinarily did not preside over trials unless it was one as high-profile and high-stakes as this one. Known as a fair jurist, but occasionally quick-tempered when litigants, particularly defendants, made the mistake of disrespecting the court or wasting the court's time. She was in chambers, as Kenton was brought up, shackled at the wrists and ankles, to the courtroom, accompanied by the Aschen attorney sent from the consulate.

Then there were the lead prosecutors, Senior Prosecutors General Thục-Đoàn Phùng and Geraldine Batchelder-Lockerby, who'd first made their names years ago doing the brunt of the investigative work into the TNG's elusive yet infamous spymaster after the Malijin hearings. That was when Sisavang Khamtai had still been Justice Minister, though neither Thục-Đoàn nor Geraldine could quite believe it had been that long ago now. The two women, one slender, aristocratic, and fair, the other round, rugged, and brown, took their positions at counsel table, setting redwells with files neatly arranged within on the table, while staffers from the Office of the Prosecutor General joined them, as junior attorneys and professional support staff.

The first row in the spectator seating had been reserved for members of the media chosen by lottery, and those lucky few carefully readied tablets (one or two bringing old-fashioned ink pens) and cameras, while the public was allowed to take the remaining seats in the courtroom, ushered by stern-faced court officers under instructions not to permit any shenanigans or chicanery whatsoever.

Outside, the sun began to peek from behind massive clouds, shining through the windows in what struck Thục-Đoàn as an auspicious sign. Yes. This trial might finally be an opportunity for some justice.

"You have the opening?" Geraldine murmured, sliding a sheet of paper to Thục-Đoàn. The whisper was quite unnecessary, since the spectators were still speaking and the bailiff hadn't called the court to session yet.

"Just as prepared," Thục-Đoàn confirmed, offering a brief flash of a smile to Geraldine. "Don't worry. We've got this."

"Positive attitude," Geraldine said with a nod. "That, and confidence in our hard work. That's the mindset."

"ALL RISE, COURT IS NOW IN SESSION, THE HONORABLE AKOSUA NKRUMAH ACHEAMPONG PRESIDING," the bailiff called, voice resounding throughout the courtroom, and Judge Acheampong, who was the very image of regal beauty and power, strode to her place on the bench, her robes billowing elegantly behind her. "You may now be seated."


0.25 INK received for post #2780095, located in Fort Veritas:

Hartblay's undress grays contrasted noticeably with Thrawn's dress whites, with Varona's combat blacks, and Božidar's civilian suit and tie. (A necktie that Božidar seemed only to tolerate minimally.) It was an odd sight, the mismatched uniforms with the lone civilian holdout, though Božidar knew Varona ​― technically a civilian now that he was Defense Minister and not Grand Admiral, the rank that only Fātiḥ Sayılgan had ever held in the Terran Armed Forces ​― had chosen uniform to send a not so subtle message about his position today. It occurred to ​Božidar that Grand Admiral Sayılgan's absence from the meeting might also serve as some message to the insubordinate Chiss. After all, Thrawn fell under Sayılgan's command, and Sayılgan under Varona and then Prime Minister Khayyam.

Varona struck an imposing figure, his long curls suggesting a bit of rebelliousness not typical of a career soldier, the sleek black metal of his wheelchair suggesting what sacrifices he'd made through his service, his combat blacks suggesting he had no time for nonsense, frivolity, or the shenanigans of recalcitrant upstarts and miscreants. With the sterile air of the base's conference room and the faint hum of the HVAC system churning in the background, the setup laid bare the lines of power. No need for such ostentatious shows and crass dick-measuring contests, as the intelligence director would often say. Varona tilted his chin back ever so slightly, dismissing the old crone's voice from his head.

There were about a half dozen things Varona could say, and he'd run through each of them before Thrawn's shuttle had even landed. Most of the scenarios he'd envisioned ended with him throttling or impaling the Chiss to great satisfaction. But out of respect (however little) to his colleague, Varona instead chose to keep it simple and at least physically nonviolent.

"What the ever-loving fuck do you think you've been doing out there, admiral?"

And only from Varona, and perhaps one or two other people at most ― the intelligence director among them, could the rank of "admiral" come out sounding like the most foul and degrading insult.

As if in afterthought, Varona dismissed Hartblay, who all but fled the room, the door shutting noiselessly behind him.


0.25 INK received for post #1843057, located in Niihama:

“Target the administrative building!” Furuyama hurried behind the small team of five operatives assigned to assume what little control it was possible to wrest from the freefalling Shokaku. He shouted its coordinates, staring at the nav screens.


0.25 INK received for post #1843064, located in Niihama:

“Fifteen seconds!” came Furuyama’s shout. The chaos on the Shokaku’s bridge gave way to near-silence interrupted only by murmurings of prayers in dozens of languages, inaudible. Lips moving. Eyes forward to the Imperial Palace, the administrative building, the glittering Niihama skyline all around them. One man wondered whether his daughter would follow in his footsteps. A couple embraced one another, whispering prayers as if with one voice. The ghosts of friends and fellows were present with them, joining in their journey, to aid, to comfort, to guide. Their voices offered solace.

With an enormous explosion, the voices were silenced and the prayers ended. The people aboard the Shokaku were engulfed in flames, disintegrating, and their visions went with them.


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​“Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.”
― Arundhati Roy

Stunning letter from autistic survivor of electric shock torture in USA