PbC: 'Nasce' e muore quì?

owli1 ha scritto: Fai che all'estero fanno perlopiù pbf, giocavo in un gdr di star wars in inglese proprio per poter migliorare la lingua (mi dissero che in qualche mese son passato da scrivere come un bambino di sei anni fino a uno di otto anni u.u).
Ti dico però che all'estero scrivono moooooolto più di noi, ma davvero tanto, o si fa "RP" sessuale di vario tipo (e lasciamo stare, i siti che lo offrono sono tantissimo, roba che i nostri erotici son davvero dei gdr) per giocare con piccole azioni oppure appunto si fa del gran WoD, spessissimo legato ad associazioni di live.

owli1 ha scritto:
Ti dico però che all'estero scrivono moooooolto più di noi

I stood outside the Large building staring down at the card in my hand and muttering to myself "Mytic Corporate Headquarters, huh?" trying to make sense of the card I was reading, why was there no description beyond that? Something was definitely off about the place.
I glanced to the left and the right checking to see if there were any suspicious characters hanging about, finding nobody was a little odd though. It was obviously a thriving business and yet there was so little traffic on the street or in the building itself. I sigh chalking it up to the time of day and shrug my bulky leather trench coat back into place from where it'd slipped thinking to myself that maybe a visit to the tailor would do me some good, the thing was so big. I glared at the file in my hand as if willing bad luck on the head investigator that had given it to me. I always got stuck with the bum leads despite my distinguished record. Ghosts in fields and aliens living in dumpsters and the like, occasionally they'd flip me something they didn't realize was juicy like a cheating senator or a booze addled mayor's aid. I pushed my fedora low over my eyes and some of my hair slipped out, my bangs covering my eyebrows now and the rest spilling out the back. Maybe instead of the tailor I ought to visit the barber I mused pushing a particularly aggravating strand from my line of vision and eying the reception desk. I could just make out a decidedly feminine figure seated at the desk and so straightened my tie to hid which way the buttons were done. Lord only knew how much flack I'd catch from the fellows at work if they were smart enough to tell a shirt from a blouse.

I climbed the steps hastily and pushed on the glass door's silver handle to which it yielded with nary a complaint or report. I strolled across the spacious lobby with it's keen benches and neat fountain to stand at the reception desk. I peered down at the reception area only to find it empty. After waiting a while and seeing nobody I said in a loud voice that I wish could've been more deep and gravelly "Hello I'm here to meet with someone concerning an investigation into suspicious activities. I spoke with someone earlier on the phone, though she didn't give me her name. I brushed the back of my neck trying to pretend this was nothing new for me but failing.

After a long walk and far too many nights sleeping on the ground, the prospect of a real bed with four walls around me is a welcome one.

Might be hard to attain, though, since from the sound of things they're not letting just anybody into this town, I muse.

I decide it might be a good idea to listen to this argument for a little while before I decide what to do. I try to get close enough to hear everything clearly without drawing attention to myself. And while a half-orc might typically draw attention just by his presence, that isn't likely to be a problem with a false beard covering most of my lower face and my hood hiding a good portion of my head as well...

mr_jakhal ha scritto:
Pensare di rendere un PbC internazionale, è pura utopia

No, basta giocare in EN che tutti usano sul web.
Così come già ora su diversi PbF e PbC di lingua inglese c'è gente da tutto il mondo :)