by Jessa
The obvious: Start roleplaying. Or at least lurk a bit and watch other people (and their chars) as they meander about the Divine Realms Inn. Of course, you discover that your character's wonderful and intriguing story is just one of many wonderful and intriguing stories, and that somehow you need to involve said character with all of the others in order to reveal the story. With all the stories and plotlines and character interests flying around, it can be a challenge to settle in to the point where anyone else might really care what happens with your dear Joe Glodson, but that's where conversation comes in. It gets Joe noticed.
Of course, actions speak louder than words, and the more withdrawn denizens of the inn aren't very likely to simply walk up to the brooding character at the bar and ask them what's shakin'. It could happen, but it's easier not to wait for it, and better to add some interest to the introductions.
So, start by jazzing up the entrance. Not the doorway, but your char's passage into the realm of the Rogue et al. It's easy enough to simply have him walk in and look around before finding a seat at the bar, but give your imagination a poke. Compare:
[Joe] *takes a few steps in, glances around carelessly, and takes a seat at the bar* or
[Joe] *stumbles in through the doorway, breathing heavily and clutching the stitch in his side while he hastily tucks away a bit of swag into his belt pouch*
The second raises a few questions, and it leaves an opening for other characters to find reason to notice Joe. In most cases, other roleplayers actually want to meet and interact with the new characters, but can't dredge up a reason that would keep in character. But with the creative entrance, there are possibilities. A pious character could scold Joe for stealing, a more experienced thief might be concerned that Joe has led the Provost's Guards right to their door, or the general ale-swigging crowd might applaud Joe's daring. Think of details that will draw interest, and choose actions that will leave openings for other characters to comment. This works within conversations as well.
[Polly] But that's so brave of you, stealing to feed your family!
[Joe] *shrugs*
[Polly] ...anyway, I remember my father once snatched up a gold bracelet when. . .
In this example, Polly's exclamation deserves some kind of reaction from Joe, but his shrug doesn't convey much about his feelings. Realistic or not, it leaves Polly's PM with a quandary. Does she mention the lack of answer? Most people in real life wouldn't. Instead, they would return the conversation to their primary interest--themselves. But:
[Polly] But that's so brave of you, stealing to feed your family!
[Joe] *shrugs, and looks away, a brief wince of embarrassed discomfort passing over his features before they settle into impassiveness*
[Polly] *suddenly a little suspicious* How many siblings do you have, anyway?
This time, Joe is still the repressed guy, but he reacts just enough that it would be hard for Polly to not mention it. The inexplicability of his reaction is also a conversation energizer, leading to more questions about his character.
On the flip side, it is crucial not to be an attention-baby. Joe is an interesting person, certainly, but he can't always expect to have people fluttering over his intriguingness. Polly is almost without doubt possessed of an equally interesting past and some strange habits of her own, and if Joe doesn't allow her to express a little bit of this at least, both she and her pm will soon choose to talk to someone else. This isn't to say that a character should always be self-effacing even when going through a complete crisis and in dire need of emotional support, only that Steelsings is a community, and one person (or character) can't be the center of it. A good excuse to turn the conversation to someone else is if the discussion touches too closely on an uncomfortable subject for the character--they can visibly flinch and change the topic, leaving strings of interest behind for tomorrow's revelations.
Of course, short of being mute, a character won't ever always rely on action to convey his feelings. Dialogue is the central part of the roleplay, and requires a bit of knowledge, creativity, and craftiness. A good recommendation would be to re-read some of the Tortall books again, and maybe freshen up on the canon information every few months. This keeps the setting in your mind while you roleplay, and can contribute vital details that will help to integrate the Divine Realms Inn into the world Tamora Pierce created. Drop gossip about the latest batch of girls packing off to the palace as pages (shameful of them, really), mention the changing rates of attacks by immortals (oh, I was talking to the cobbler and he said his cousin in the country just saw a--), remark perhaps on rising taxes or the renovated Royal University or those cursed Scanrans that think they can immigrate to Tortall after the war has ended. Details make the story, and the Inn does not exist in a vacuum. At the worst, you might have your canon details corrected by other roleplayers, but that's better than having never attempted to create at all.
More mundane creativity also has a very crucial place in roleplaying. Just as actions should leave room for response from other characters, replies should also attempt to be remarkable--in the most literal sense of the word. It's easy to type in the first sentence that pops into your mind--but chances are that the same sentence is expected by other players. The best roleplayers I know are the ones that continually surprise and enlighten the other players with their unexpected peculiarities and embedded information. For example.
[Polly] So, how have you been?
[Joe] Oh, just fine. You?
There was nothing interesting in Joe's reply; it almost didn't even need reading because 'fine' was what we expected him to say.
[Polly] So, how have you been?
[Joe] Better since I managed to find a high enough bribe for that gods-cursed magistrate; I really didn't need the Provost's Law set on me for that little brawl last week.
All of a sudden we learn something new. One: Joe isn't the most ethical of people, and he treats bribes as part of everyday life with admirable realism. Two: we are reminded that this Tortall, where there are magistrates and a provost. Three: he was in a brawl last week, an excellent segue into a conversation. Practice this as much as you can, and eventually dropping hints and details will become second nature in both roleplaying and writing. Be careful not to overload information--the best authors after all never have a character launch into a page-long monologue about the quiet quaintness of their hometown. If this is important, bits and pieces are fed into the dialogues little by little, until it becomes accepted by the readers mind as fact, and adds three-dimensionality to the story, characters, and setting.
Returning to the thoughts on setting, keep 'historical' accuracy near and dear to your heart. As a modern reader, it seems obvious to us that drinking can be a bad habit, violence should be disdained, women can kick ass, and foreigners need to be shown acceptance and toleration, and atheists might have a valid argument. This isn't so in Corus. Far from being a warm and enlightened modern society, most of the people living there were what we would today term 'conservatives'. Expressing realistic opinions about controversial issues adds depth and authenticity to your character, and if he truly believes something different from the norm, there had better be a good reason in his background. Additionally, keep in mind the time period as you choose your words. They had healers, not doctors, beaux, not boyfriends, and 'cool' was pretty much only a reference to the weather. On the other extreme, the average peasant of Corus isn't going to use words like polytheistic. Often characters will end up with much more sophisticated speech and syntax than anyone really ever uses, but it could just be a side-effect of having so many readers/writers/general-nerds in one place. Life goes on.
As a last word, I might mention that spelling and capitalization, while not matters of life and death, do deserve a bit of attention. Mistakes happen, typos happen (with sometimes amusing results), but making an attempt to keep things neat will win you points. It's much easier to take seriously a properly spelled tirade than, "i'm so scarde that Ill brake somthing, I cold cry." Lame example maybe, but hopefully it conveys the point.
And chatspeak does not equal roleplay speak. Any character that says, "*shrugs* I've g2g" will be swatted with a spoon.
Have fun!