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Tropers / Aniventerie

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Describe Aniventerie, AKA Jon Shepherd, here.

Well, he's just zis guy, you know?

References aside, I am indeed "this guy". A guy who enjoys both the creative and technical. A guy who idealizes free expression, rationality, non-conformism, love, and elegance. A guy who thinks deeply, creates incessantly, dreams unboundedly, and lives right on the cusp of figuring out his shit.

My theme song.

Aniventerie: A word which once meant something but now means nothing.


Beliefs: Moderate/Agnostic/Not into sports/Pacifist.

Current RP involvement

RPs where my involvement is not yet solidified are marked with "Possibly?"

  • SBURG (round 2): Robin DuMonte.
  • Morimune High School: Aiko Kimura, AKA One Thousand Dreamlike Rainfalls, AKA Dreamy.
  • The NEW Heroes Unlimited in Action: Jonathan Twill (vigilante name Clockwork).

Tropes that apply to me

  • Apologizes a Lot: An unfortunate quality. Yes, I have apologized for apologizing before. I'm slowly getting better, though.
  • Brilliant, but Lazy: I have repeatedly proven what I could do if I properly applied myself. I simply have trouble caring.
  • The Klutz: In the "tripping/breaking things and forgetting important tasks" aspects. This is a result of my tendency to get lost in my own thoughts.
  • True Neutral: I don't think laws are more important than freedom, but neither do I think that law and order is inherently bad. I will do a lot for someone if I think they deserve it.


Speak your arcane whisperings herein.

The faeries are thw first to mark your page with our arcan whispers. - Stolen By Faeries

Your page doesn't have enough vandals on it. But I'll fix that.Sean Murray I

I fought the decisions that call and lost my mark has the relevant piece in this I will come reformed. In short, for the murders of those I court, I bless the hour that holds your fall, I will kill you all!!Vanthebaron aka The Crowing

You ever dance with the Devil in the pale moonlight? —Sean Murray I

  • No, I've got two left feet when it comes to the classical stuff. Why satan can't at least give the electric slide a try is beyond me.

With this, I'm now responsible for 60% of all your vandalism. How did this happen? —Sean Murray I

  • You again! This calls for a dramatic duel atop a building of some sort!

  • This is obviously a special painting.
    • ...this reply isn't very special at all...

  • I saw your vandalism of Moe's page, so here I am, one True Neutral troper reporting for duty, sah!
    Also: I lost the bomb... Do you have it?-desdendelle


So, over at this thread, I've offered my services as a shipping fanfic author specializing in webcomics. I am not normally one to write fanfiction, so this experiment should prove interesting.

Due to problems I've been having with hosting, I'm going to put them here for now.

    The Beastess and The Professor (Nepeta < 3 Terezi) 

>Be the Beastess

Your name is NEPETA LEIJON, and once again the credits are rolling.

You have just finished watching another episode of a shitty shoujo series you’ve been following on your tablet PC (how you managed to convince Sollux to get you access to the human website "Hulu" is beyond you both). It’s a trashy and wonderful thing; the voice acting is terrible, the production is mediocre, and the plotlines border on histrionic. But you watch it regardless in hopes that you will actually learn something.

In your personal world there aren’t many mysteries. The fauna that fill your stomach every night, the night sky which gives you just enough light to hunt by, the strange game you and your friends have begun playing; these are all things you don’t totally understand but don’t regard as mysterious. The only truly, unrepentingly mysterious thing in your microcosmic life is another troll.

They don’t make sense. They operate on rules you don’t, follow dogmas you just don’t have the enlightenment to grasp. They kill each other over nothing, you kill so you won’t starve to death in your own cave. They run themselves ragged to be the best, you are simply glad to be living. Your life is simple and harmonious, their’s are complicated and discordant. There are joys in this life of yours; there’s the thrill of the hunt and staying up late roleplaying and warm nights snuggling with your lusus. It’s all so intuitive and everything falls into place without convoluted schemes to make it all right.

But there’s still one thing missing. A plotline not tied up.

Lately you’ve been feeling like there’s another element to this story, one you only now sense as gone. Your friends seem to get it, even if not all of them have or appreciate it. As the hollowness grow, time runs out. It’s near the finale, and the arc still hasn’t wrapped up.

Someday the series will end. And then you’ll just click off the screen. There’s no point in sitting around for the end theme.

>Be the professor

Your name is TEREZI PYROPE, and you know everything.

Well, not everything. Everything worth knowing, really, and what you don’t know you can find out. You have your ways.

Maybe it’s just the Seer of Mind nonsense giving you hubris, but you can’t help but feel on top of this whole ordeal. You have irons in the fire and the might to put them out when they’re ready. You are the marionette master artfully tugging the proper strings when it so suits your objectives.

Your life is a game, and you doing a damn fine job of winning.

You know all the strategies, all the endgames and opening plays, all of the little rules and addendums that can be exploited. But most of all, you know your fellow player. They’re multi-layered creatures, doing one thing but wanting another, saying this but meaning that. You have the clarity of thought and systemic knowledge of their inner rules necessary to see through these layers and bend them to your whims, almost like a game in and of themselves.

But the game is near boiling point, and you can’t bring yourself to care. They say it‘s lonely at the top, but no-one told you it would be boring.

It’s almost like there’s a mechanic or playing piece missing, but you know for sure there isn’t. What’s really happened, you think, is that you know it all and wished there would be more. Wished there would be more to your existence than scheming and plotting, than playing stupid mind-games against unworthy opponents.

Someday the game will end. And then you’ll simply pack up the board. There’s no need for a recap.


Your name is NEPETA LEIJON, and nearly everything is lost.

You and your friends had finally won the game. Created a universe, made it through the gates, and beat the king. But just as you were all about to claim the prize, everything fell apart.

You are walking to your makeshift respiteblock, situated on an abandoned lab on a lifeless rock in The Veil. The arc is still unfinished, the hollowness consuming, and the show has finally been cancelled. You don’t even have your simple joys to fall back on. As you make your way down the corridor, you realize you can’t do it. You fall to a seated position, slide to the wall, and let your face drop it’s usual cheer. A single tear rolls down your cheek.

Where are your simple joys now? They’re a memory. Old imagery painted on the walls of a cave, only to be found by and feel mysterious to future generations.

There’s still something though. Through the tears, you make this small hope known.


Your name is TEREZI PYROPE, and someone is crying just outside your respiteblock.

You peek your head just out of the door, enough to see what’s going on. Oh. It’s that one. God, you hope that one‘s okay.

It’s then that she says something, presumably to herself. Even though it’s just a little wonderment, it’s a question you that completely catches you off-guard.

Through all this, through all the death and pain and destruction, this girl is wondering aloud when she’ll next get a chance to hunt something.

Suddenly, it hits you. On impulse, you take off your shades and lick them. Sweet, cherry red, just as they’ve always been. Even though they’ve consistently tastes this way, it somehow comes as news to you. In your quest to know it all, to understand everything, you’ve completely forgotten what it’s like to taste something and enjoy it.

You make your way into the corridor. Slowly, as not to startle her. She looks at you with confusion as you sit beside her and place your hand on hers.

“It’s gonna be fine, Nepeta. I’m hungry too. When this blows over, we’ll go get something to eat, okay?”


Your name is NEPETA LEIJON, and you think that’s a very good idea.


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