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"Gosh, I'm not sure," Mickey responded, holding the red crystal like a carefully guarded treasure. "The essence of someone I know, huh? Well, who is it? And just how do I get them out of there? Are they okay? Oh no! Is Minnie alright?" His questions grew more anxious the more he asked, clapping one hand over his head when the stress became too much. It was a lot to take in, and it looked like, once again, it was up to him to save his friends.

More steadily, Mickey furrowed his brow and looked up to the man in the white coat with stern understanding.

"You just tell me what I have to do to put a stop to her and help my friends. I imagine they're counting on me, and I can't let'em down."

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In one RP I'm (re)trying soon, the OCs that come with the idea are side characters and main characters all at once. In some ways, they drive the story, but they're also there to support the players without really taking an active role. As far as small details go, I really want these characters I present to have life, so I include how they look, how they act, and what their purpose is in the story. I'm even in the process of scrounging enough money up for an artist on Tumblr to draw them, and I'm rather excited to see that happen.

For me, it's the small details that sets one RP apart from another. Without any details of its own, it doesn't really do much. However, again, the whole "Chosen One" thing is a valid character type. I know SOS centers around one major story, and the character played by the GM is more or less very much a part of what's going on and knows things other players don't because of that. The key is in execution.

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Lost indeed. Alone and wandering through the woods, Mickey Mouse found himself in the dark in both the figurative and literal sense. What was he doing there? He didn't know. What just made that spine-tingling sound right behind him!? He didn't know that either! All that did go through his mind was shouted aloud in panic,

"I gotta get out of here!!!" he hollered, throwing his arms up and using his hands to shield his eyes from the eyes in the dead trees which seemed to be peering down at him. Eyes were everywhere he looked. There was no escape. Everything was out to get him, and everything from logs in the water to shadows between the trees was alive. Racing for his very life, Mickey dashed over dirt path and hurdled over exposed roots. Hostile sounds were closing in on him. There seemed to be no escape!

That was the case until he saw a breakage in the woods. The trees cleared away to reveal a castle, dimly illuminated in the moonlight. Dare he go closer to it? The woods were not so welcoming, so there was no option for him. He ventured on, dashing as fast as his feet could carry him. He scarce noticed the ground below his feet start to feel more like cloud than terrain. His eyes were fixated on the castle.

He only hesitated once he got to its mighty doors. Tender-footed, Mickey knocked at the door and shrank away. He only hoped the Master of the Castle was home; or maybe it was better if they weren't. Such a forboding air hung about the place.

"H-Hello? Is anyone there? I've been lost in the woods nearby, and I-I need a place to stay for the night."

"Mutter?" a small German boy of eight called from the rubble he'd been buried under following the recent strike. He could not see. He was so confused. Why was it so silent? "Mutter?" Surely, she'd have dug him out and held him when things were scary. And this was so much scarier than anything ever before. It was a series of booms, screams, and sweeping silence.

Silence held the air before a small bit of light hit his teary eyes. A warm, gentle hand patted around bits of building before finding refuge in blond hair as soft as duck fur. The little boy breathed a sigh of relief, as best he could. Finally, his mother had found him. "Mutter...
Ich habe An-"

"Nein, nein mein starker Junge. Keine Tränen," she replied, her voice hushed and sad. What he could not see was her frame below that of the fallen door frame. Her legs and hip bones were crushed beneath them, and her face bloodied where the roof had crumbled on her head. She'd been nearly blinded on the impact --- the world had become shapes and colors without lines --- and was crawling and praying to find and give solace in what she knew were the last few moments.

He could not, but she saw the bomb. It was not a clear sight, but it radiated. It seemed to be charging and nearly ready. Though the bomb was about as tall as a three men and wider around than the height of one man, and it looked as alien as it really was, it could be felt that these would be the last few moments for a small spot on the Earth. A massive weapon speaks a Universal language.

She stroked his face and burst into tears. What was happening? Such a brittle, little hope it was to have found him.

"Guten Abend, gute Nacht,
mit Rosen bedacht,
mit Näglein besteckt,
schlupf unter die Deck:
Morgen früh, ..."

She cried and broke down. She couldn't continue the lyric. It was too Ironic to utter. She soldered on, but softer. She was talking more than singing, and whispering more than talking; it was a try of all three, where each was the only sound possible.

"Morgen früh, wenn... Gott will,
wirst du... wieder geweckt,"

Her voice was more and more like an out-of-tune flute; squeaky and hoarse.

"Morgen früh, wenn Gott will,
wirst du wieder ge-."

The block was consumed in a white burst of intense energy. Sweeping away matter like a hot wave, it made no sound or made one for nobody alive to hear it.

"Nononononono, you little creeps stay down." Base cast Aqua Splash on the reforming blots to keep them thinned out. Where Kel would charge with Aero and clear a path, Base would hold the line. A pretty good plan, for an impromptu one. It just felt like they were forgetting-

"We can't forget about Horace! Something tells me the ghosts will manage, but we left that guy on his own." Aqua Splash was working wonders at staving off the Blotlings from reforming, but his Magic would only last so long. Find Horace Horsecollar and get out. "Follow in behind me, Steel. Nobody gets separated."

When he was found, Horace was sinking up to his waist in the floor-consuming shadow. One strategic Splash, and the Shadow released its prisoner and recoiled away from the fleeing group. Numbered four, the group managed their way out of the hostile environment. They were back in the Graveyard, but it seemed like no one was chasing them at that point. He'd stay at the ready nonetheless.

"You alright?" he was out of breath from the exhilaration, but the others needed to be checked.

"I'm alright. And... to be honest, kinda little shocked. I ain't too used to bein' remembered like that."

"That's terrible. Why say a thing like that?" Base asked, concerned.

"Just the truth. The whole reason I'm here is because nobody remembers me no more," his long face grew longer with sadness.

"Can't be. I could have sworn I saw a guy --- Well, a horse anyway --- who looks exactly like you back in Disney Town."

Horace's face lit up and he clacked his hooves together.

"Disney Town? You know about Disney Town? That's where I'm from- but, oh. Y'say somebody up and went replaced me?" Horace plopped down and sighed with his head in his hooves, defeated. "Doesn't that just figure? I bet they don't even remember him neither."

"More than one thing really curious is going around here. What do you two think?" Base looked to Steel and Kel.

"It never ends. Demon dinosaurs, actual demons, and brooms. You meet the weirdest people on these pleasure cruises," Base muttered sarcastically as each attempt to strike the blots down ended with failure. The Keyblade would just pass through them if swipes were made, but one reaction prompted his next decision. The Keyblade became stuck in one of the creatures. Not matter how much he tried to pull, it wouldn't budge.

"Time to beat a retreat, you two," Base grabbed Steel and Kel by the wrists while the Keyblade dispersed into white light and knocked the consuming blotling to the ground as it went. "I've fought a losing battle before, and it's just not worth sticking around to see how much you can get your butt kicked. Follow me!"

Of course, he was running blind, through a haunted mansion. What else could he do? He could hear the little ink-demons chasing, and he saw the shadows on the floor corner him. This wasn't good. He let go of his friends. They weren't going anywhere.

Username: Sebax
Preffered name: Donald Dump Base
Timezone: EST

"OooooOOOoooooOooo!" The ghosts circled round and cackled, goofy-looking, phantoms with teal capes and bowler hats. Poor Horace. He was shaking, and his teeth were chattering. Erm... Was Horace a gift horse? Base was told never to look a gift horse in the mouth, for some reason or another that slipped his mind. Nevermind. Good thing he was already armed.

"Hey! Leave him alone! Go haunt some place else."

"Woa, boys! We got a real riled up live one here!" The stoutest of the ghosts halted in flight and floated over the group. "Not afraid of us, huh? BOO!" He pulled a face and waggled his tongue, rolling his eyes back into his transparent head.

No reaction was pulled from the thin lad face-to-face with the sight. In fact, for good measure, Base yawned. He wasn't really tired, but knew that would bother the boisterous bully. He wasn't wrong.

"Say! Either you all start shouting and hollering and going "EEK! A G-G-G-GHOST!" or we'll... or we'll..." the ghost steadily lowered as he lost steam. "Well, we won't be too pleased, I tell ya what."

"Can we just get over this? We have bigger fish to fry, sir. I'm guessing you don't get too many guest, but we're really in a hurry, if you don't mind."

"Well, sonuvagun. Hmph. The living these days. They can't be spooked by nothing. Alright, kid. Whadaya want?"

"That depends. Guys?" Base looked over to Kel and Steel, while helping Horace Horsecollar to his feet... erm... hooves?

"Kel. Got it. I'm Base. Also, terrified. I have some serious heebie-jeebie feelings going on here. That's why I have this out," he said holding up his Keyblade. "Don't you hear the organ music? Is it just me?"

It was a waltz in dismay. Discord ruled over the song he heard rolling through the area. He swore he could even see the flicker of spinning phantom couples high in the sky by the Manor's shattered windows. This was where they were supposed to go...

"Come on. I'll try to be Jokey Base only so often as to lighten the mood, but we're really going to need to be serious about this." His tone was far more somber than it had been in a long time. Death was lingering in the air. Where Death lingered, misery would fall on the living. They had to go in, get out, and come out of it sane. "We watch each other's respective backs, and we don't let Fear control- That is a pretty funky eye, to be honest, Steel. Minor detour here: What happened there? Yeesh."

His arms crossed over his chest, Base's eyes popped open. Rising to his feet without parting his crossed arms, Base smiled, his canines sharpened. It wasn't complete without hissing, which he did, but it was an effect brought on by the fact the false teeth in his mouth caught him off guard. The two implants popped out while he cleared his throat.

"Wow. I'm getting sick of falling asleep without my consent." He stretched and grumbled when a loud pop sounded from his lower back. "And I have no clue how those fangs got in my mouth. I'm not happy about that. And that foreboding, decrepit manor is not helping. Is that our next haunt? Of course it is. The worst possible place is always the next job. That's the life we lead. We charge right into the nearest hurricane with pretty much just a raincoat."

He summoned his Keyblade. Like he could hear the musical ambience of a visual space, the out-of-tune organ ringing in his ears was putting him on edge. At least he wasn't alone.

"Hey... you're... sorry, I got this. Kenan?" Base shot the question over to Kel.

Particularly with movies, I like having collections of certain things. For instance, I have collections of movies from my favorite Actors and then there's things like Disney. It's nice to organize, have, and just look at, really; although, my Adam Sandler collection notably does NOT have many of the... more recent additions. I don't have a complete Robin Williams collection, nor is a complete Disney collection, but that just makes it feel all the more personal, and it fills me with a similar sense of Pride to see a full collection in someone's possession. Oddly enough, it invokes a feeling of validation, rather than a feeling of envy. I study movies pretty regularly though, so really any way I come across a movie is a good way. I just prefer to have a collection of favorites.

With music, never really could do albums. I prefer the fact that you can be listening to Ke$ha on Spotify, and then hop directly over to Vivaldi with only a few clicks. It's fluid, and just the way I like to listen. The opportunities to creates playlists in the digital format are endless, as the tracks aren't nailed to one physical copy that has to be changed; it also lacks the arbitrary track-list order, where you have to strategically press next, back, or repeat (if there is a repeat button on your CD player or other audio-device) in order to listen to only the songs you like. Who has ever been fully satisfied with every track on an album? The only people I know who would answer in the affirmative either found one album they REALLY liked, or they are devoted to a particular artist/band/genre on a near-religious level.

Books are a toss-up. There's something satisfying about reading from a printed page, and something of a chore about trying to read from an electronic device. I have found certain devices that do their best to emulate the engaging quality of reading from a book, without necessarily having to make you turn digital pages; I personally prefer scrolling to flipping, because the touchpad can be a bit sensitive. Still though, I do enjoy an audio book if the device is designed to make reading on it bearable.

I own Pokemon Y digitally, and Pokemon X physically. I deeply regret all my digital game purchases for mobile devices like the 3DS or for consoles like the PS3. Given that one of my favorite PC games includes the Sims though, digital purchases for PC are DEFINITELY preferred.

Base stared as Mortimer made his escape.

"Oh. He doesn't know it yet, but he is very, very, very, very, very, very dead. He's the kind of dead that you look at, and it's, like, "Oh, yeah, he's really dead"," Base mused ignoring all the laughter, punching, and reasoning, and just casually walking without direction. Never ceasing with notes on just how dead Mortimer was going to be for what he just did to Karina --- Karina would take care of that --- and what he did to this Mickey everybody seemed to like so much. "He is SO dead, that if you were to compare him to the very first dead person who ever died, Mortimer would be, at least, ten times more dead than they were at any given time. That dea- Oh, look, a castle."

I have some grievances with the Title upon which this category is going. I suspect it is a pun, but, even so, I affirm that it ridicules not only the recipient of said title, but all nominees forthwith. Therefore, I move that-

Hey!

Hey!

Quit pushing me! Fine! Fine! I'm leaving. Yeesh.

I have feedback for the review you gave Based Forward. It seems that I can't PM you though? Any clue as to why this might be?

"Kick his butt. Kick his butt. Kick his butt." Base chanted and beat his fists down on the bench a distance away, along with a few stomps to add to the rallying beat. "Cuz, buddy you're Buddy you're a boy make a big noise, Playin' in the street an awfully big for a mouse, I'd say, You got mud on yo' face, You big disgrace. Karina Kickin' your can all over the place, Singin'-" Oh. Shoot. He was done with the ice cream. It was probably time to join them.

Base dashed up to the company and readied his Keyblade in a flash of light. So many mysterious individuals in coats, and so diverse in species. Not to mention this one seemed more than a little desperate for Minnie's attention.

"So, wait, hold up. Where's your fedora? You know, with the whole 'I'm better for Minnie than the guy she's with' shtick you have going on. Because, from what I've learned, Minnie's not exactly on the market, Morty."