There didn't used to be an RP section here.
Us, who I have now completely officially named, "The Deadless Dead," used to be forced into a cage within another part of the forum. There, we sat, and we wrote. The RP was more basic, the standards were lower. It was peaceful, and it was enjoyable. We survived, I at the time was blissful and oblivious to what could only happen.
...Then, the living titans came.
They came, the night shattered simply upon hearing their battle-words. Stars flew, and standards grew. Metal, the sound of the cages, broke out into the freedom of air. They took over, and we were freed from the steel bars that held us by only a small battalion of eager heroes. We were truly free, free to write original ideas that could begin a life of their own...
But at what price? The roleplay had grown, we had gained our own section, yet something died. The "unoriginal" ideas that kept this place so active was banished, and while the battalion lived, some merely managed to survive. The enjoyment, over time, began to dwindle. Some had their reasons for banishing themselves. Some began to wander and show up occasionally at the local pub. Some couldn't keep up and live, the standards having grown and the amount of RP's having feathered.
While this may have happened, a blessing yet a curse, those who stayed could prosper.
However, one hero would soon rise to the top. One person, one person with the elite writing skills to rule them all...
And Bingo was his name-o.
