��: PIE test

flood #0 I'm just here for the pie

mybb@mybb.ru (False Spring) — Thu, 06 Jun 2024 16:06:20 +0300

� ��

guest book

mybb@mybb.ru (Seymour) — Sat, 01 Jun 2024 12:19:32 +0300

��, �� ! �� :
https://englishcross.rusff.me/

what happens in the library, stays in the library

mybb@mybb.ru (Nnastya110) — Fri, 31 May 2024 18:34:56 +0300

-I don't mind coffee. How about bumble coffee? - Carl said.
Their conversation was interrupted again. This time the delivery man was standing at the door. He brought new books for the library collection.

-Get ready, there are a lot of boxes for you this time. - Said wearily tall and thin delivery driver.

Carl and Mary had to postpone their coffee break. It's funny that after several years of working in the library, they never learned the name of the man who delivered it.

twitter #0

mybb@mybb.ru (Seymour) — Mon, 27 May 2024 14:13:24 +0300

to have nothing to do while at work is the worst

looking for a partner

mybb@mybb.ru (Seymour) — Mon, 27 May 2024 00:34:59 +0300

�� :

1. ��. �� , �� . �� , �� . �� , �� /� �� . �� , �� , �� .

2. ��. �� . �� -��. �� . �� , �� . �� , �� .

3. �� , �� : �� , �� , �� .

4. ��. �� . ��-�� . � �� , �� . � �� , �� .

5. ��. �� , �� . �� .

6. ��. �� . ��-�� , �� -�� , �� , �� . �� . �� , �� .

shut up, Achilles

mybb@mybb.ru (shut up, Achilles) — Sat, 25 May 2024 13:52:00 +0300

FANDOMS AND GENRES
***
I don’t do fandoms. I have a few darlings like Cyberpunk 2020, Fallout: New Vegas, and Dark Souls, but I’m an esoteric gremlin and I’m at peace with that. So you and I, we’ll be better off doing originals.
As far as originals go, I enjoy slice of life shenanigans, modern fantasy, and hard sci-fi. Generally, I’m a sucker for all things hopepunk (examples go like: this, this, and this).

As far as ready-to-play ideas go, I have a half-baked Shadowrun-esque take on modern fantasy x cyberpunk. Hit up my PMs, if you want a barely structured unhinged rant about that. For slice of life, ideas come to me a dime a dozen, so I don’t even count these.
FAVORITE CHARACTERS
***
Looking back at my roleplaying career, I tend to write three types of characters:
a) cinnamon buns;
b) bitches;
c) middle-aged burnt out men (especially field surgeons, for some reason, I dunno, they’re fun).

Most of them are quite old, and none have been translated into English. I can, though, give you Micah. She’s somewhere on the spectrum between a bitch and a cinnamon bun, and also very much unfinished: she was meant for my old co-pilot, but the idea didn’t take off.
English level:
***
Somewhere ‘round C, but I lost my capacity to care about formal level about three years ago.
I do my due diligence when I write posts, but don’t expect me to stay formal in dialogues or flood, because English’ slang is too rich to not use it at all.
Game preferences:
***
Generally I’m comfortable with 550-700 words per post, but my range is anything within 150 to 2500 words. My default is third person limited, with caps, dialogue markers if needed.

I don’t enjoy the first person POV, but I can do it. Sometimes I might throw in a cheeky second person POV (tu/thou/you) to spice things up, but it’s not a style preference. Caps aren’t mandated by religion, so I can do whatever you want: caps, lowercase, no words at all.

I’m not good with graphics, so don’t expect anything pretty if I’m the one formatting our episode header.
post sample
Ah, yes, graduation day.

I think it is fair to say that of all the days this year, this was the one we anticipated the most. Well, maybe the second most, right after the premiere for season two of Sex Education. By "we" I mean the core of our graduation class of Greenville High — me and my friends. We worked hard this year and were eager to finally wave goodbye to the high school.

Well, not necessarily to an equal degree. For example, Bob crawled out of his bed for coffee and scrambled eggs just like any other morning. Jim, though, was so anxious that his mom had to help him with his necktie... Though maybe Jim wasn't clever enough to figure out neckties, I don't really know. There certainly was anticipation in the girls camp: Datoka and Margot almost starved themselves to fit in their dresses. And Jenny wasn't even posting hot takes on Twitter the whole morning, which meant that she's deadly serious.

I, for one, was way too sleepy to feel anything. Damned late-night gaming sessions with Bob. This morning I dragged my body out of the house while ███████'s pickup aggressively honked at me. "Coming, I'm coming", I yawned, dragging my body into the passenger seat.

"Good morning, sleepy", — ███████ smiled.

"Yeah, screw you too..."

The two of us promised to come earlier and help Mrs. Jones with preparations at the high school.

The ceremony itself was kind of boring. The principal kept droning on and on with his speech. Nothing special or even unusual about it. At least this is the last time we had to bear through it.

We were a little bit anxious to come up on stage and receive our diplomas — being stared at by 150-something pairs of eyes is kind of tough. Well, except for the Fraser sisters. Margot was the theater kid; she basked in ovations just like a narcissus under the sunlight. Dakota wasn't as confident as her twin, but she was simply gorgeous in her burgundy-colored dress. Gosh, she's beautiful.

"Dude, when will you ask her out?" — ███████'s elbow poked under my ribs. Ouch!

"Nah, I'm probably not her type", — I shrugged off the suggestion.

"You could just try, though. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I...", — sigh — "I just don't want to ruin our friendship, y'know?"

███████ scoffed and turned away.

The weird thing is, I remember coming up on the stage and receiving my certificate, but I don't remember ███████ doing the same. I remember an awkward handshake with the principal and being eager to come off the stage ASAP. And ███████ was supposed to come up right after me. For the life of me, I cannot remember, but why?

After the ceremony, closer to sundown, we managed to get rid of relatives and parents. Now it's just the seven of us, not-so-kids now. We went to the park, bringing with us a brown bag and cans of soda, a third of their volume now filled with whiskey. Thanks to Bob and his fake ID. (But shuhs! I never told you about that, okay?)

We were giddy with laughter, well, even more than usual. Though — dare I say it! — whiskey tastes like crap, its hot bite is surprisingly good at loosening the mood. Or maybe this was the fun of doing something you weren't supposed to. "Who would stop us?", we thought, giggling and snapping selfies.

We were about to step into the adult world, feeling like it was right under our feet: "It'll be alright", we thought. All of it. College applications, drill sergeants at Marines boot camp, even the old Pap's car repair shop wasn't as bad of an option. At least we told Jim so, trying to cheer him up. "It'll be alright", we said to him. Jim's a hard-working kid, even if not the brightest, he'll figure it out. Even the most cynical of us — looking at you, Jenny — seemed to believe that.
In the falling darkness we drank more soda with whiskey, getting tipsy. Under thick oak crowns we promised each other to always stay in touch. Together we felt united and united, we felt strong. We're besties for life, goddamnit!

There were hugs and I remember a brief sting of envy at ███████ for how easy their relationships with Dakota and Margot were.

Next time I blinked, ███████ was gone; it was always just the six of us.

I wasn't the one to raise the concern, Dakota spoke first:

"Where did ███████ go?"

Laughter turns to a sour silence for a moment.

"Who's ███████?" — Bob asked.

"I think ███████ was with us the whole time...", — I said, though not sure. "███████" sounded familiar, but every time I tried to remember something, I felt like trying to touch the empty space where something punched through my memory. This empty space, it was shrinking.

“But who is ███████?” Jim asked again.

“I think I shared French class with ███████”, Margot said.

“You think?”

“Oh, shut up, Jenny!” Jenny always was sarcastic when nobody wanted her to be.

"I don't know what this game is, but guys, that's not a funny one. There were six of us the whole day", — Bob spoke again, he sipped from his can. "Always just the six of us".

"But I was with ███████ this morning!" — I scratched the back of my head. "We helped Mrs. Jones with the preparations".

"No you weren't", Margot said to me. "I remember you there, carrying all these chairs by yourself, there was no ███████, whoever ███████ was".

“Guys… This might sound crazy, but I think we lost somebody”, Dakota whispered, suddenly so pale and, it seemed to us, sobered through fear.

“Right”, I nod. “But if we lost ███████… Where?”

“I think you guys are full of shit”, Bob took another sip from his can. “There is no ███████”.

I felt shivers running down my spine, Jim and Dakota felt so as well.

“There were six of us the whole day”, Jenny said.

“It was always the six of us”, Margot added. “No ███████”.

“You just said you had French classes with ███████!” Dakota shouted.

“Did I?”

We nod at her, now all of us feeling out of place, shivering, even though it was a warm spring evening.

“Nah, you’re making it up”, Jenny said, taking it out on Dakota. “And you two”, – me and Jim – “Quit foolin’ around”.

“Oh, fuck you!” That was Dakota.

“No, fuck you!”

“Hey, chill”, – I intervened, taking a step to place myself between the two girls. “We all need to take a deep breath…”

We took one, and as we did, we began to think. Jim, Dakota and I tried to remember something about ███████. Margot, Bob and Jenny thought that the three of us tried to pull a prank on them. Honestly, it’d be easier if they’d been right. It was hard to remember ███████, even though we thought we knew ███████. But memories suddenly turned elusive, like roaches greased up in vaseline.

"Jenny, have you had a date with ███████?” I asked, grasping for vanishing memories, trying to hold onto them. I took a moment and proceeded, “It wasn’t a great one, was it?”

Jenny gazed at me, anger swelling in her. Bullseye.

“I wish that I didn’t”, she said. “Funny thing, though – I know it was a terrible date, but it’s like I had it with ███████ and I didn’t. Are you sure it weren't you who invited me to that fucking museum?”

"I'm pretty sure it was ███████".

“Alright, s’pose ███████ was one of us”, Bob crossed his hands. “How is it that we can’t think of ███████? And for fuck’s sake – why?”

We had no idea. Well, at least we had no reasonable idea.

“What if ███████ was like Hitler?” Jim asked. We stared at him. “What? Oh, c’mon, don’t look at me like that. It’s Time Travel 101: killing Hitler as a baby to prevent the Second World War”. Oh, Jim, always a nerd for science fiction. “So what if ███████ did something so horrible in the future, that somebody went to our past and killed ███████ as a child?”

“Like, for what?” Dakota asked.

“Fuck do I know?” Jim shrugged.

“Oh, you!” Margot threw her hands into the air, turned on us and began to walk away. “You people are creeping me out, I’m getting outta here. Ping me when y’all are sane again. Ciao!”

We followed her with our gazes.

“I think Margot’s right", – I said and then finished my can. "We’re too jacked up right now”.

“But what about ███████?” Bob asked.

“I’m not saying that there was no ███████. Just that we probably will be better off by getting some sleep and then asking other folks about ███████. Maybe somebody will remember ███████’s parents or something”.

“I don’t like that plan”, Dakota said. “Margot seemed to forget about ███████ as we talked to her! Won’t we turn out the same way in the next five minutes?”

“Nah, I don’t think so. Margot just freaked out. Besides, do you have any better ideas? Anybody?”

We stood silent for a moment or two. No better plans.

“Alright, fine. We’ll do it your way…” Dakota agreed. “But we'll begin searching for clues first thing in the morning”.

“We will”, Bob said, the rest of us nodded in agreement.

But Dakota is right. Whatever we’re holding of ███████ in our memories, it evaporates at an alarming rate. As I’m writing down events of today in my notebook, I cannot remember ███████’s name. I put the blanks instead, they feel most appropriate.

I texted Jim once I got home. He doesn’t remember talking about “time-travel kill”, ever. I’m pretty sure that at this point, Margot really doesn’t remember anything. Bob and Jenny don't respond to me. It seems that only Dakota and I still remember at least something.

“We'll do everything we can”, I text back, trying to reassure her.

“Promise?” — she asked.

“I promise”. I think we’re lying to ourselves.

It’s only 10:23 PM. I’m not sure our memories will last until morning.

Stargazer

mybb@mybb.ru (Stargazer) — Sat, 25 May 2024 12:02:59 +0300

FANDOMS AND GENRES
***
�� , �� , �� , �� , ��, ��, �� , ��, �� .
FAVORITE CHARACTERS
***
...
English level:
***
� � �� , �� Advanced, �� , � �� , �� (� �� ), ��, �� , �� -�� 1 �� . �� , �� .
Game preferences:
***
�� , � �� . �� , �� - �� , �� - �� 5-7� � ��, � �� - ��, 1,5-3�. �� , �� .
post sample #1
He had never thought that his life would get so much simpler but at the same time so much emptier. New Asgard was nothing like the land of gods and heroes, where Thor was growing up as a kid, it was a refuge, and strangely as much for the living Aesir and Vanir, as for the shadows of those, who didn’t survive the destruction of their homeland. Thor was trying to hide from his guilt for years, but now, when the final war was won and when half of the survivors had returned to life and to their families and friends, he couldn’t help but bow down to the overwhelming sensation of being truly unworthy of his people.

He was banished once from them to Midgard, to learn human ways of life, and more than Thor could admit even to himself, he was returning to those old days frequently in his mind with mournful wish to live that life again and, if not to change his errors, but at least stay as far from Asgard as possible. He could die back then by a Destroyer’s hand, led by Loki. Perhaps, he should have. Perhaps, it could be better for all of them that way. He wasn’t good to become king, he won’t be – Thor saw that in their eyes, those who were so disappointed in their last heir of Odin.

So he hid himself with Korg and his giant insect-like friend in a shack. Those two couldn’t care less about his ruined legacy and broken vows. And Thor just couldn’t stay alone with his thoughts.

Several weeks passed like in a dream. Now things were going to change. It wasn’t his crown anymore to worry about the last pieces of lost golden kingdom, thought its absence Thor felt deeply within his heart, he knew it was a right thing to do. Brunhilda was from the people, she knew what it is like to be lost and found and to rebuilt your whole life from the scratches of the shining past. Thor had to go through that path, too, but it was a lonely road ahead. He wasn’t ready to be seen for who he had become, but he desperately wanted to show asgardians a new version of himself they just might respect like they had used to.

He had to do something good, because he was still alive. There was nothing behind that, no responsibility, nor destiny to fulfill. Just a simple impulse, that he had shared with the rest of the Avengers, when Stark died. Nothing was going to last forever, and so there wasn’t so much time for his new goal, since his sense of good was now leveled back to the mark of a hero, beaten, lost, enraged and lately regretful, but still a hero. He wasn’t a perfect hero, too, but who was?

So he started his daily routine, leaving his shack at night, while his friends were sleeping, to run as far as he could. It was much harder even compared to those times when Thor was just starting to train with the Einherjar. He was week, he was heavier almost as Volstagg, and much clumsier, but it was a beginning, and he knew how to train, encouraged by the returning sense of life. He was barely leaving his new home after arrival to Earth, so he couldn’t enjoy and embrace the spirit of Midgard, which was known to him and in honest loved.

He was running across the cliffs, to the forests and on through the silver shores, feeling how wind is chasing him day after day faster and faster. His mood was shifting, and every fall on the ground, every pain aching could result in storms above his head, but there were no rainy clouds, because he was happy to feel something besides loss and regret. He was losing weight faster than he thought, and diet helped even more than his night efforts to make his heart drum again with thunder. He was feeling much better, still it was long way till full recovery and even longer for the improvement of that particular hero’s shape, but he was succeeding to the point of getting comfortable to run at daylight, to be seen by his fellow asgardians.

It was one of those days, when he started early in the morning to run again, getting small nods of acknowledgment without a single word from his neighbors. With a short beard and a hair cut as he had once on Sakaar for the sentiment of still being unworthy of his asgardian culture, Thor was wearing a simple black and white sweat suit of some humans popular sports shop, name starting with an “A”. Decent for the purpose and nothing in comparison with his old attire, costume was hiding his persona well enough to get recognized as midgardian, especially with a hoodie covering his head. But there was one single detail that could link him to the new landers in Norway, which was a black and gold eye patch, since his electronic eye died due to energy blast a week ago. After all, the mechanism wasn't designed for a god, who masters lightning. Not a huge loss, his vision was still better than ever before and, more importantly, wiser and deeper.

Hours later, when the noon was approaching, Thor was headed back to the village. New rout took him far deep from the fjord’s shores, and so he was going back by the main road, which was built by humans towards Tonsberg’s ruins. Up and down, green and grey hills suddenly revealed a car right before him in a distance. Smoke was leaving the heated engine, covering up the wooden sign off the road, that was proudly modified to welcome New Asgard’s visitors. There were not as much of visitors, as Thor was almost hoping to see. Though integrated with all possible rules and regulations by human authorities, they were still aliens to the land they once helped to form and people of Earth were not so much into tourism as they were used to before Decimation.

Probably, after everything that had happened, asgardians were not even that special. The thought was humbling. With a slight constraint Thor run up jogging to the car and only then stopped with a concerned frown.

“Greetings!” he said with a smile towards young lady, whose car was now broken and not doing much except pollution. Thor's voice was slightly deeper than expected for the light tone he was aiming for, but still a gentle rumble.

“Do you need assistance with this vehicle?”
post sample #2
Hearing his own name without a proper introduction to the entirely unknown stranger wasn’t something unlikely to Thor. After all, he was popular on Earth back in the days, much better days which were seemingly leading one by one to the shiny future. He was a superhero of Midgard, with a base of devoted human admirers, and he had praised himself for that quite a lot.

When his future finally came, it was nothing Thor could have ever anticipated. Reasonably his views upon himself and his legacy deviated far enough from being comfortable around any people at all, and, as it came to his mind, around those, who knew something they most likely shouldn’t. Thor tried to remember this young woman, searched through his past interactions with humans, but he couldn’t pick her face up in his mind regardless of his efforts.

He smiled incredulously and firmly shook her hand, cautious not to hurt her.

“You are right, lady Jean, I am Thor. And you are neither a native to these parts, nor an acquaintance of mine,” he said cautiously, trying to look as if past of her eyes to the truth behind them. He knew how Norsemen talk and how they look. And Jean Grey reminded him more of Jane Foster who was from another country across the ocean, his friends’ lands. Could this woman be from those far parts of Midgard as well?

“You did not guess calling my name,” Thor added with a hint of curiosity, still frowning with concern. “I wonder, why? Good with faces or with sorcery?”

He doubted that this human was one of those who cheered to see him fly above them in the sky. She also didn’t give a reason to acknowledge brewing malice, at least from the beginning of their conversation. Just a wanderer, perhaps? Or finally someone dared to use those ridiculous telephone machines to show New Asgard via humans invisible web net? If so, that wasn’t a good idea, he thought unconsciously.

Seymour

mybb@mybb.ru (Seymour) — Sat, 25 May 2024 11:59:08 +0300

FANDOMS AND GENRES
�� , �� , �� . �� . �� , � �� , �� , �� .
�� , �� , �� , �� , �� , ��.
�� .
FAVORITE CHARACTERS
�� (� �� ).
�� . ��, � �� .
English level:
�� , ��, ��, �� . �� .
�� , �� , �� .
Game preferences:
�� . �� , �� -��.
�� . �� , �� . �� , �� :D
post sample
� I'm not scared, � said Eugenie, but they both knew it was a lie. And, in all fairness, she also knew that he wasn't honest with her either. She could see it in her father's eyes when he tried to assure her that everything was ok. He wanted to keep her calm and, well, it seemed to be working anyway. Now she wasn't so scared as she was two minutes ago. And she definitely wasn't scared of him.
Eugenie walked across the room and took his wand from the table. She held it in her hands very carefully, as if one false touch could break it. She was aware it is not that fragile, but a wand is a treasure for any wizard, especially if it's one's own. And she wanted Oliver's treasures to be safe. Some day she'll have one of these, a wand of her own, and, no doubt, it'll be a true pleasure to get one, but it is very unlikely that she's gonna be as excited about it as she was about her first broomstick. Eugenie couldn't describe the feeling she had the first time she held her broomstick. It was the best day of her life, the day of pure happiness and joy. Of course, it wasn't like the ones real Quidditch players ride, her broomstick was smaller and not so fast as her fathers', but it was perfect for her height and weight, and so beautiful she didn't want to get it out of her hands. Only if she could Eugenie would take it to bed like other kids take dolls and stuffed toys. But broomsticks, even small ones, weren't toys.
� Here, � she handed the wand to its owner. Then Eugenie climbed up in bed with Oliver and put arms around him placing her head on his chest. � Daddy Marcus let me stay so you don't get bored. I'm not sure he was happy about it, but I wanted to stay. And look after you. Are you hungry? I made breakfast.
It was strange for Eugenie to see her father chained to a bed. She always used to think that he is strong enough to do anything. And it never crossed her mind that there could be something that could take him down. She believed that her fathers, both of them, are superheroes, and it hadn't changed. But now she could see that even superheroes have moments of weakness sometimes. This fact didn't make Eugenie think less of him, but for sure made her care about him more. And maybe she wasn't so tall yet, still she had faith there was enough strength in her to help him to get through it.
� You know I love you, right? � she raised her right hand to his face to stroke his cheek like he used to do when she was upset. His face was paler than usual and he had the shadows under his eyes, but Eugenie believed there was a simple explanation � Oliver spent so much time inside that his skin forgot the sun. Once he gets better they are going to play Quidditch in the backyard again, and there are a lot of sun. Her own skin was all pink because she was outside playing and hanging out with neighbourhood kids the whole summer. So it was only a matter of time when this paleness goes off his face.

pyromaniac jay

mybb@mybb.ru (pyromaniac jay) — Fri, 24 May 2024 23:49:00 +0300

FANDOMS AND GENRES
***
�� , � �� , �� , �� , ��. �� , �� . �� , �� , �� , �� . ��, �� , �� -�� , �� , �� .

�� , �� :
Spoiler
�� -�� Dune (�� + �� ), Doctor Who (�� 9-12 ��), The Handmaid's Tale, Breaking Bad, The Boys, Supernatural, Teen Wolf, �� Hunger Games, Game of Thrones (��, �.�. �� ), �� Black Mirror � Love, Death & Robots, �� BoJack Horseman.

�� The Lord of the Rings (� The Hobbit, or There and Back Again), The Chronicles of Amber (� ��-�� , � �� ), The Wheel of Time (�� , � ��; �� , �� ), The Chronicles of Narnia (�� ), �� The Poppy War (� �� ).

�� : ��-�� , Uzumaki ��.

�� : Bioshock (�� ), �� Saints Row, �� Don't Starve, Raft, Phasmophobia, Lethal Company � �� -�� .
��, �� -�� , � �� . �� -�� .
FAVORITE CHARACTERS
***
�� , � �� , �� .

�� , �� ) �� , � �� -�� , �� . �� )) �� -��, �� .

�� , �� , �� "� �� ", �� -�� , �� .
English level:
***
�� , �� B2 (Upper Intermediate), �� . � �� .

�� : �� (�� , � �� , �� , �� ).

�� -�� (��-��), �� -�� , �� , �� . � �� , �� . �� -�� , �� : ��, �� present simple � present perfect � �� , - �� , �� .
Game preferences:
***
�� 1 � 3 ��, � �� , �� . �� , �� - �� . �� 3-7� �� , �� in english �� , ��, �� , �� .

� �� , �� : �� , �� , �� .
post sample (�� , �� )
[indent] � �� , �� .
[indent] � �� : �� , ��, �� . � �� , �� "��" - �� - ��. �� , �� . �� , �� . �� -�� "��". �� , �� - � �� . �� . �� , �� , � �� , �� .
[indent] �� . �� , � �� . ��, �� . ��, �� , �� -��... �� ?
[indent] �� . ��, �� , �� . �� . ��, �� ? �� ?
[indent] �� -�� -�� , ��, �� , �� ... ��, ��, �� - �� . �� , �� . � �� , �� . �� , �� . �� . �� "�� "? �� , �� "�� ". �� . �� , �� , �� , �� , �� , �� , �� . �� ? ��, ��, �� . �� , �� , �� . �� , � �� , ��-�� . ��, �� ... �� , �� , �� . � ��, ��-�� , �� , � �� -�� .
[indent] �� . �� . �� , �� . �� -�� ? �� . �� , �� . � �� , �� - �� .
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mybb@mybb.ru (Admin) — Fri, 24 May 2024 22:05:43 +0300

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mybb@mybb.ru (Admin) — Fri, 24 May 2024 01:22:09 +0300

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[/table][/quote]

about us

mybb@mybb.ru (Admin) — Fri, 24 May 2024 01:09:36 +0300

Welcome to Crossover Chronicles: Playing in English
A Multi-Fandom Platform for Play-by-Post Role-Playing

We are delighted to welcome you to CC: PIE, an English-language role-playing project for the Russian-speaking community. Our platform is designed to bring together enthusiasts of various fandoms, offering a space for interaction, entertainment, and, of course, games. It's also a great opportunity to practice your English skills.

CC: PIE is not your typical role-playing forum. We break away from traditional restrictions, offering unlimited creativity and flexibility. There are no fixed character lists or face claims. A player can write for multiple characters from different fandoms and a single character can be interpreted and played by multiple players. Unleash your creativity by playing your character — original or from existing fandoms.

Whether you've been long waiting for an opportunity to play in English or unexpectedly realized you want to challenge yourself with something different this is a right place for you. And even if you are hesitant or not ready to start a game in English, you can always join us just for a good chat and language practice.

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