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PostPosted: Fri Jan 10, 2014 7:58 pm 
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I would love to find some good writers via sample exchange. I'll include some of mine here. I would love to see one of yours that is a typical example of your writing; so, not an intro.

I like one-on-ones, mxf, with romance as at least a possibility. If you're only willing to play a female role or have any other restrictions, please let me know.

I love ALL plots and genres, except gruesome horror. I will put some plots/areas of interest below my samples, but keep in mind that I am super open to any of your ideas!


My Samples


Mid-rp post in a dystopian roleplay [Rated PG-13 for swearing, drug references, violence, and death]
The characters I am responsible for in this are Amber, Flower, Brom, Joe, and Clem. (That is more characters than I usually mention all in one scene. This RP happens to have fast-moving action and a lot of characters.)
The sight of Unbroken territory was not anywhere near as overwhelming as the High Rise had been, for Amber. Perhaps Leo was right, that she fit out here. It gave her spirit room to stretch and breathe. She was dismayed when night fell, for she wished to keep exploring; to prowl over the hills, off the path, like a jungle cat. To roar and call it home, to stake out a territory here that was without end and brought ceaseless expansion to her world. Yet when it was time to make camp, and their bedrolls were shaken out, she lay down on hers, in between where Flower and Leo lay.

“The Unbroken’ll find us, I think. This’s their land. They won’t attack us. We want the same thing I guess they want. Freedom. Careful, though, I might go native.” She cast a smirking, teasing look over at Leo, enjoying watching his face for signs of emotion when she needled him.

Flower had curled her upper body around her knees, feeling exposed here even amongst these scrubby trees. The smoke coming from Flint’s joint was soothing, but she still felt jittery out in this wild land. At his offer, she took the rolled paper from the Low Riser’s dark hand, pinching it between her thumb and pointer finger. She looked almost elegant, the way she held it, as the ring finger missing from her right hand created a space between her spindly digits. She sniffed it experimentally, and then inhaled briefly. The short suck was still too strong for her, and she started coughing and shaking her head.

“Give that here,” Amber suggested, looking over at her slender friend. Flower obliged, without thinking to ask Flint before doing so. The Red Warrior took a long pull from it, holding it in for a moment before she released it with a slight choking cough. She repeated the gesture, managing not to cough this time. She offered it to Leo, with I-dare-you raised eyebrows, wanting to see him handle the object in his regal fingers, to watch the smoke blow through his carved lips. If Flint allowed, she would pass the object back and forth until it burned out, enjoying the relaxing effect it had on her lungs. Her bright brown eyes, so unused to seeing, watched the smoke drift above them, curling into tendrils over the darkening sky before hanging in a fug overhead. Flower, disinterested in the foul-smelling object, rolled onto her side and lay close to, but not touching, Flint. Her fingertips grazed the panther pelt, seeking warmth, and its comforting, familiar smell.

Brom and Joe were talking in low voices several feet away, Brom occasionally chortling with laughter at something Joe said. The big Low Riser’s voice had a way of filling the empty space, of making it seem friendly, and full, and safe. Amber was quiet, and listened to it, and thought that all things considered, life had worked out pretty well for her. Here she was with her two best friends in the world, and her soul mate, on an adventure in uncharted territory. They had survived Culls and bombings, kidnapping and torture. They had lost many, but Cass had been the only one close to them who was gone now. It felt wrong to be cheerful, but she never would have thought that she would live this long, nor know such happiness.

That night, the Low Risers saw stars for the first time.

Amber sucked in a soft gasp as she discerned them, between the swaying and spindly branches of the trees. Her fingertips found Leo’s wrist, begging for understanding. It was beautiful, the way they twinkled, even more beautiful than the blue sky, and scrolling clouds ... and she had come so close to never seeing this at all. How could the world contain such unornamented beauty? How much more was there yet to discover? Tears rolled down her temples and melted into her burnished bronze hair.

Clem was by himself, as usual. His bedroll was far away from the rest of them, nearest the outside of the trees. He had announced that he would stand watch, and that appeared to be what he was doing, sitting there in silence, back to them all, staring out into the darkness. As the hours rolled by, and everyone fell quiet, save for their deep breathing and Brom’s thunderous snores, Clem felt chills wash over him. Sweat coursed down his body, and he shivered, and closed his eyes upon sweet hallucinations of times he had never had with Cass, without the relief of sleep.

Some time later, he had no idea when, he rose to his feet and slipped from the camp, and their lives, with the stealth of a wraith.

In the morning, when they woke to find him gone, Amber panicked. That feeling of dreadful certainty closed around her heart, with all of its horror, and with all of its peace. She refused it, trying to buck it off like an unbroken horse does a saddle. In the end it was Flint, with his tracking skills, whom she’d had to follow in order to find Clemence. He lay in a gulley, his body just barely cold. Besides his sweat, nothing seemed wrong with him, until they lifted his black sweater to find the infected knife wound in his gut.

There had been ample time for Clem to get this treated; he had chosen not to. He had not committed suicide by traditional means, instead letting the nature of violence take its natural course, but it was difficult to view the situation as anything other than a wasteful choice.

Brom had known what they would find, he could see it in the terror on Amber’s face. When it was confirmed, however, all he said was: “He’ll be with Cass now. He’d have wanted that.”

Flower burst into blubbering tears against Flint’s side. Joe suggested they bury him, that’s what the Unbroken did, he had heard, and they were in Unbroken territory, now. To Amber it felt wrong, to put his body into the earth to decompose slowly and painfully. It was not a final enough ending. It was not swift, and shouldn’t he be, if he was to catch Cassandra? He had been Amber’s trainer, but she didn’t cry. She didn’t even harden over. She merely felt the pain, like a meat grinder to her internal organs, and did nothing about it, as Leo would have done.

It was a waste of a half day, scooping out ground and laying Clem in it, as the pallor increased in his bronze skin. Leo was now the only High Riser left on their expedition. Once the dirt was over him, Flower placed something pretty she had woven from blades of grass on top of it, with a feather stuck through the center of it. It was the blue-black feather of a raven she had found on the ground.

Amber began to speak awkwardly, her words long and drawn out, until it became apparent that she was singing, or trying to, for the first time. Her voice was rough and off-tune, not at all lovely, but it grated with emotion, very Amber-like:

“Gut the motherfuckers, for freedom an’ for feather
Cut their Unseen throats…”

Here Flower joined in, her voice a whispery warble, high-pitched and sweet, and Brom soon followed her, his voice deep and pleasant. Joe contributed a word here or there, but he didn’t seem to really grasp the concept of singing.

“...an’ spit their blood ‘cross both tiers
Meet us in the middle and we’ll strike together
Lay their corpses out and scream redemption in their ears.”

They all ended the song at different times, so it seemed that “scream redemption in their ears” echoed many times. It was sung far more quietly and sadly that it had been sung in the arena and elsewhere afterwards, as a victory song.

“Let’s move on, we’ve lost enough time,” Amber said, quietly and brusquely. Clem the peacemaker would not have wanted to delay them on their way to war.


Mid-rp post for a modern (mermaid) fantasy [Rated PG for nudity and some sexuality]
I went very, very detailed with this. Probably more detailed than I usually go, even though I love detail.
Unaware of everything save for the dreamy memories flitting briefly through his mind, even that soon began to fade, and though life returned to him, the vignettes of his life did not. Consciousness was still a long ways off, but for now, everything was black to him. When memory did return to him, it was different than when his life had 'flashed before his eyes.' Though he gave no external sign of it, consciousness was beginning to creep over him, like the fingers of dawn.

It started with the sacred remembrance of a mermaid's song. It was an eery sound, but so beautiful, one would go towards it willingly, even if it were death. He did not know how long he drifted, cradled in the bosom of those sonar notes, but it was without beginning and without end. It connected with his soul, touched him in a timeless way. It was the nurturing murmur of his mother's voice when he was still in the womb. It was the lifegiving blood of amniotic fluid. It was the earth that would take him when he died, and return his mortal form to dust. It was the closest he had ever come to hearing god speak to him. It was an alien language, one which made no logical sense to his mind, but it felt to him like the native tongue of his spirit.

His memory warped the sound, gave it more vowels, carried it in undulating patterns which rose and fell, cacooned him and then drifted back. As he listened, his awareness very slowly widened until he could feel sand beneath his fingers, and a sore ache all over his body. There was a sharper throb on his frontal lobe, and a sticky wetness there that was different than the chill damp on the rest of him. And a weight ... a painful pressure, so unpleasant after that surreal drifting, as reality returned to him. He could also hear the sounds of birds, of wind rustling palm leaves. Further away, the whisper of waves lapping a shore, and startlingly close, the occasional scratch of microscopic rocks scraping together as something on top of them moved. These sounds were different than the song he heard in his head. He heard these noises with his ears, which forced him to differentiate, and begin to realize that this incredible music was a figment of his imagination, a memory he had never had.

Breaths came stronger through his lungs, raising and lowering his chest. They now made an audible, steady sound. As the sun reached his face, he felt the warmth, but did not stir. The light shone richly on his tanned skin, making it look deeper, and more alive. Before he had resembled a waxy corpse. The nymph had kissed life back into him, but now, the sun reanimated him with a caress. Where his skin was thinner, the light reacted differently. Through his exposed earlobes, it shone red, casting tiny pink reflections on the sand beneath him. It highlighted the pulse which jerked through an artery in his neck. It formed narrow shadows behind each vein on the back of his hand, a valley behind each mountain, as though every inch of his skin was a miniature landscape. His eyelids looked nearly white underneath the already-strong sunlight, and his eyes beneath them showed faintly through like dark, circular shadows.

Then, they began to move. These veiled circles roved from side to side in twitchy patterns, and his dark, thick eyebrows furrowed as if loathe to be woken by the unrelenting light. The mystical sound of that voice had faded away to nothingness, the siren song had left him bereft. When he began to let go of it, he suddenly heard one last note, one resounding chime of that unearthly knell, which ended the memory for good, but stayed with him for a long time, resounding through his soul long after he had forgotten it.

With it, his nostrils flared as he suddenly drew in a breath through his nose instead of his parted lips, and then he coughed. Eyes still shut, body still limp against the ground, a couple of small coughs wracked him, making his torso jerk slightly. He turned his head, grimacing harder, and then slitted his eyes open. There was so much pain in his throat, from all the leftover salt, but the sunlight lancing into his head hurt him too. His head wound throbbed so much, it seemed like an atmospheric pressure which actually pulsated against him from above. His eyesight was blurry at first, offering him only a sense of light, and of cheerful colors of blue and green.

Needing to breathe more than he needed to see, Sterling lifted his head and tried to roll to the side, but did not make it very far before he swayed. He had never felt so nauseous, nor more in pain. It was incredibly disorienting. Nearly panting from the exertion of the motion, he winced against the light and slowly looked up, forcing his eyes to adjust to things that were less close than the grains of sand coating his wet sleeve.

That was when he finally glimpsed her. A woman so beautiful, his first response was to believe that he was dreaming. That notion only lasted a moment, as the pain was far too realistic and specific to be of the stuff of dreams. Yet she looked like a mirage, a figment of his imagination, transposed over this dreadfully real environment, the product of a nasty head injury. Her hair was white, with iridescent lights in it, almost as though each individual strand were see-through and refracted the sunlight into rainbows. They did not make hair that color. And what girl would actually wear her hair that long?

Her skin was so pale, as if it had never seen the sun, but here she was, sitting buck naked under the full blaze of it. Skin that white belonged to a redhead, and would have picked up UV rays faster than a pretty hitchhiker. Her skin almost hurt to look at, though his eyes were still overly sensitive to the light. Why, he wondered, was he hallucinating nude women? More importantly, why was he here? When he wondered this, his mind conjured up a brief, confusing image of a storm at night, black waters, and a rush of sound, but he had to grimace and shut his eyes to it. The memory was too chaotic and overwhelming right now.

All he could concern himself with was that very moment. It was already too much for him. Thankfully he also did not remain fixated on the woman, and missed her scales, and better still, her gills. Even what he could glimpse of her nakedness could not hold him now. Laying on his right side, leaning on that same forearm, he brought his free arm around slowly to press the heel of that hand - covered with sand and dirt - to his face, wiping it over his left eye and leaving a smear of sludge there. As he flexed that shoulder, he felt stabbing pains shooting down his spine. Dear lord, what had happened to him?

Shipwreck.

The word came to him and reverberated through his mind. Shipwrecked how and with whom, he had no immediate recollection. Sitting up slowly and with a groan, he began to feel out his legs and arms, realizing with relief that nothing was broken. The vegetation wrapped and tangled around him was a hindrance, which he began to pull off with an irritation which gave him strength. His muscles protested against this use, and his head pounded with a vengeance, but he ignored it until he was mostly free, and then gingerly touched his head injury. Pulling his fingertips away, he saw sticky, fresh blood, and he frowned.

This human flesh wound reminded him of his mysterious companion (who, if still there, was likely not an imaginary person) and he looked over at her, choking out a raspy, "Are you alright?" His voice was not the velvety, deep concoction that it usually was. It sounded rusty with disuse and possibly too much nicotine (though that was not the case). His vocal chords felt like beef jerky: dried, salty, and inflexible.

He realized that the rest of him was in fine working order, however, as he looked at the woman. Half-dead and mostly drowned, he could still appreciate her exposed femininity. Apparently all that was necessary for him to be able to think sexually was a pulse. She appeared unhurt, in fact, she appeared downright perfect. Except for a bloodless cut on her ribcage, which did not look so good. His brows furrowed again in concern, but supposing her to be very self-conscious of her naked state (or if she was too disoriented to be, then he should be on her behalf) he said, "here," and began unbuttoning his flannel shirt. His fingers were stiff and clumsy, and it took him awhile to get all the buttons undone, and even longer to then peel it off of his torso (to which his body protested most adamantly). The black v-neck tee shirt he wore beneath it was mostly unscathed, but wet and clung to him as his flannel shirt had done. He held out the article of clothing, and did his best not to look upon her points of interest, being more of a gentleman than was usual for boys his age.



More samples available upon request. If you want to see an example of something specific, just ask. I've done a very wide range of things.


Here are some ideas/plots/areas of specific interest in list format:
  • Pride and Prejudice as a setting (or roughly around that time)
  • 1920's as a setting (jazz, speakeasies, flappers)
  • Something that involves arena combat (though I would like to explore a less-bloody version of it, whether it be a type of virtual game or a point-system fight) I may have a plot and intro post(s) for this
  • A plot in which our two characters travel not only through time, but through dimensions and realities against their will. They could show up in any "world," interact with any characters, etc. (I have more information on this.)
  • Pretty much any plot that isn't gruesome horror, vampires, or werewolves. But you never know, I may be amendable!

I really love hearing the plots of others, as well. I am very good at adding onto it and getting ideas as we brainstorm! Coming up with plots and characters is quite fun; if our writing styles are compatible, we should have no trouble figuring out what to write about!

_________________
I am always looking for literate writers:
I generally prefer 1x1 m/f, with at least a possibility of romance.

I am an advanced writer, and I give frequent, quality replies.

Genres that I love:
Romance, action/adventure, dystopian, sci-fi, period (Pride and Prejudice, Downton Abbey, 1920's) arena, modern, fantasy, and many more.
(The only genres that I do NOT enjoy are gruesome horror, and probably not supernatural or fandoms, although maybe.)

I write maturely, but fade-to-black for intimacy.

If you only play females or have any other restrictions, please let me know up front!

I can write in gdocs, email, or here. Also, see my second spoiler under "Want to write a book with me?"

Here is a sample of my writing, I would love to see a non-intro sample of your writing as well, please!

Non-Intro Writing Sample:
That night, the Low Risers saw stars for the first time.

Amber sucked in a soft gasp as she discerned them, between the swaying and spindly branches of the trees. Her fingertips found Leo’s wrist, begging for understanding. It was beautiful, the way they twinkled, even more beautiful than the blue sky, and scrolling clouds ... and she had come so close to never seeing this at all. How could the world contain such unornamented beauty? How much more was there yet to discover? Tears rolled down her temples and melted into her burnished bronze hair.

Clem was by himself, as usual. His bedroll was far away from the rest of them, nearest the outside of the trees. He had announced that he would stand watch, and that appeared to be what he was doing, sitting there in silence, back to them all, staring out into the darkness. As the hours rolled by, and everyone fell quiet, save for their deep breathing and Brom’s thunderous snores, Clem felt chills wash over him. Sweat coursed down his body, and he shivered, and closed his eyes upon sweet hallucinations of times he had never had with Cass, without the relief of sleep.

Some time later, he had no idea when, he rose to his feet and slipped from the camp, and their lives, with the stealth of a wraith.

In the morning, when they woke to find him gone, Amber panicked. That feeling of dreadful certainty closed around her heart, with all of its horror, and with all of its peace. She refused it, trying to buck it off like an unbroken horse does a saddle. In the end it was Flint, with his tracking skills, whom she’d had to follow in order to find Clemence. He lay in a gulley, his body just barely cold. Besides his sweat, nothing seemed wrong with him, until they lifted his black sweater to find the infected knife wound in his gut.

There had been ample time for Clem to get this treated; he had chosen not to. He had not committed suicide by traditional means, instead letting the nature of violence take its natural course, but it was difficult to view the situation as anything other than a wasteful choice.

Brom had known what they would find, he could see it in the terror on Amber’s face. When it was confirmed, however, all he said was: “He’ll be with Cass now. He’d have wanted that.”

Flower burst into blubbering tears against Flint’s side. Joe suggested they bury him, that’s what the Unbroken did, he had heard, and they were in Unbroken territory, now. To Amber it felt wrong, to put his body into the earth to decompose slowly and painfully. It was not a final enough ending. It was not swift, and shouldn’t he be, if he was to catch Cassandra? He had been Amber’s trainer, but she didn’t cry. She didn’t even harden over. She merely felt the pain, like a meat grinder to her internal organs, and did nothing about it, as Leo would have done.

It was a waste of a half day, scooping out ground and laying Clem in it, as the pallor increased in his bronze skin. Leo was now the only High Riser left on their expedition. Once the dirt was over him, Flower placed something pretty she had woven from blades of grass on top of it, with a feather stuck through the center of it. It was the blue-black feather of a raven she had found on the ground.

Amber began to speak awkwardly, her words long and drawn out, until it became apparent that she was singing, or trying to, for the first time. Her voice was rough and off-tune, not at all lovely, but it grated with emotion, very Amber-like:

“Gut the mother*******, for freedom an’ for feather
Cut their Unseen throats…”

Here Flower joined in, her voice a whispery warble, high-pitched and sweet, and Brom soon followed her, his voice deep and pleasant. Joe contributed a word here or there, but he didn’t seem to really grasp the concept of singing.

“...an’ spit their blood ‘cross both tiers
Meet us in the middle and we’ll strike together
Lay their corpses out and scream redemption in their ears.”

They all ended the song at different times, so it seemed that “scream redemption in their ears” echoed many times. It was sung far more quietly and sadly that it had been sung in the arena and elsewhere afterwards, as a victory song.

“Let’s move on, we’ve lost enough time,” Amber said, quietly and brusquely. Clem the peacemaker would not have wanted to delay them on their way to war.

[Many more samples available upon request.]

Want to write a book with me?:
I love the style of collaborative writing that can take place over Google Docs or a private pad. All those hours of writing can proudly see the light of day when written together, as if it is a book. Dialogue flows so much more smoothly, and it is actually a great deal easier to write. Redundancies are unnecessary, and it makes it far more enjoyable to read.

It works pretty much the same; you each have characters that you're responsible for controlling, or NPCs. If your character would react to something another character does or says, it could happen right away, rather than awkwardly, a post later. Dialogue, battle, and a slew of other things can be written with far greater ease. Long posts often still work, too!

References are important, since both writers are likely to play roles in describing things.

It requires a lot of collaboration, discussion, and flexibility, but it is well worth it! The level of integration and how exactly we do it varies from person to person. One person can act as "GM," creating an interactive story experience for the other writer, or both writers can have equal creative responsibility.

POV's: It can be written from third person omniscient (the way roleplaying is usually done) limited (where there is only one "main" character whose thoughts are shown) or even objective (no one's thoughts are seen). In the below sample, we are writing in third person limited, because both that writer and I are far too detailed, and we were trying to write a short story. Her character is the one whose thoughts are shown, so I take more responsibility with objective scene descriptions and such.
Great POV Help

However we want to do it is completely up to us. We could always just try it, and if you don't like it, we could go back to traditional RP.

This style improves the writer far more than anything else I have found in 12+ years of writing, and it is so fun!

Example:
(My text is brown, my partner's is blue.)
http://i805.photobucket.com/albums/yy334/ohgodofwriting/Mobile%20Uploads/ScreenShot2014-01-13at80901PM_zps9345aa3f.png
Plots:
Dimension-Traveling (All genres, total freedom, "never ending"):
This is a plot about two characters who can travel through time, space, and dimensions. They can literally show up in any plot or any genre that we, the two writers, want them to. They can visit our other characters, we could pop into other role-plays and include other people, this thing is...imagination-roving.

It can range between any setting: period drama, sci-fi, fantasy of any kind, anthropomorphous, apocalyptic, gladiators, modern, pirate...
And almost any genre (though it will probably always be action/adventure on some level): horror, comedy, drama, romance...

Literally ANYTHING you can think of. You don't have to want to do all of them, but you should want to do some of them, and more.

Character A (can be you or me) has long-lived a lonely, but exciting (and oftentimes horrifying) life of traveling through time, space, and dimensions without warning and against their will. It seems that the universe takes this character places to accomplish certain things, i.e. helping people on their quests, keeping someone from dying, basically to make something happen or to keep something from happening. The character moves on to a different timeline approximately once they have succeeded or failed at this vague mission. It can be years or it can be hours, although it is probably most often days or weeks.

Our story begins when character A runs into character B. For whatever reason, they discover that they can travel together.

Character B should have some special skills that can help in some way, otherwise it would be a horrible damsel-in-distress situation, without relief. (No matter the gender.) Either way, it will take B time to adjust, and it will be traumatic, and they will need saving at first. But if they start out being a competent person, this phase will be shorter. Perhaps they are a cop, an assassin, a genius, a historian, a botanist, anything really that could lend skills, however small, to this lifestyle.

I may have an intro for this, whether or not we use it, if that helps you.


Grave Writers:
On top of every grave is a small box instead of a tombstone. These boxes can be filled with the belongings of the deceased, or mourners oftentimes put letters in the boxes so that they can feel as if they can communicate with their loved ones. I need help with this plot, but my idea was that my character could be a girl who reads these letters and writes back. Your character could be a police officer or detective trying to find this fraud, or a man writing to someone (although that seems a slower start). I don't want this plot to be too morbid/creepy/supernatural, I don't think. I am open to ideas!


Extreme Fantasy (not elves):
I want an RP that puts no limits on my imagination and creativity. There are two options:

Option One: I envision something akin to a medieval setting, but with the ability to change anything we want. Giant, highly intelligent animals, incredibly gorgeous scenery, beautiful mood-music. Someone who loves art and using references, and who really enjoys detail, would be perfect for this. It would work with most any plot, but something simple would really let the setting shine.

Option Two: In a modern, "normal" world, seers who can "see" things superimposed over the natural world. Beautiful images of light, gruesome images of darkness. Again, it can work with a lot of plots, but that should take a backseat to the main focus, which would be visual imagery and imagination.


The What-If Machine:
What if there was a machine that let you see what your life would be like if you had made a different choice? It lets you see the past that you missed out on, and the future you can never have.
What if you married that old girlfriend?
What if you majored in something else?
What if you got cleaned up and never made those mistakes?
What if you had taken more risks?

This plot can work for literally anything. It can take you back into an old RP that you loved, give a well-loved character an alternate life, anything.
Send a message to me!


Last edited by OhGodOfWriting on Fri Dec 20, 2019 1:59 pm, edited 3 times in total.

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PostPosted: Sat Jan 11, 2014 3:13 am 

I'm no longer comatose!

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Joined: Sat Jan 11, 2014 1:13 am
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Location: The Land of Bloody Cold and Ice
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A-HA! Another plot creator! Pleasure to meet you sir! And don't worry about restrictions, I hardly have any along with moral dignity. I seem to play male characters better anyway despite my gender and sexual preference.
This is a quick and short tid-bit from an older roleplay. I'm having trouble remembering my username to my more recent ones. It was a sort of drama/suspense/comedy involving a corrupt business experimenting on genetic splicing and humans. My character was a rude but madly intelligent Brit. Rated PG-13

Quote:
"Off with you satan's infants!" He snarled batting at the children running about his heels. He'd been searching for his trainers all morning long only to discover them in the mitts of his neighbor's diabolical spawns. He had the habit of leaving his shoes outside his entrance when extremely pickled for some unfathomable reason he could not recall while in right mind. They screeched with laughter and he covered his ears wincing as the noise reverberated in his internal lobes. "Oh, do be quiet and give me back my bloody trainers!" Growling lowly he extended his hand for his shoes. How he wished that he hadn't gone to the boozer for that date last night. The bloke wasn't even that enticing yet he had felt a tad lonely lately and some fresh meat seemed a pleasant distraction. Only it was absolutely horrid and were he to survive the boring conservations being spewed from an inferior mind, it were by drinking. The children stopped for a moment then began giggling once more.

"You talk funny! Like Harry Potter…"

"What the hell is a trainer anyway?!"

"Like a Pokemon trainer!

"Oh yeah, Pokemon!"

They spouted nonsense prancing about him like high, sugar stuffed gnomes in the small hallway with the peeling mint paint. The right eye of Lucius twitched with a tightly controlled anger as air rushed in and to his nostrils trying to calm the tsunami swiftly approaching. He would never have children at this rate. His approval at the thought of children seemed to be progressively influenced in the negative direction. Whether he got with one of the female gender naturally or adopted with a male partner, the need for such things scampering about his legs like wild animals seemed absolutely disgusting. He didn't dare think about the fact that he'd be fortunate just to find a partner that met his skyscraper standards, or could tolerate his personality....

“That is enough. I will not tolerate this for a moment more, where shall I find your dear mommie? One may believe that if she were to learn of your latest abuses of the net, to travel to the site of Spankywire, that she would be absolutely thrilled! It’d be a mighty fine party wouldn’it with you both getting flogged and all.” His voice was like ice water and those stormy blue eyes fumed with a hung-over man’s rage. The boys froze in his temper and lost their giddy parlor shades in a matter of seconds. He outstretched his palm and his shoes were quickly given to him. They withdrew their hands as if the man himself was acidic to the touch.

“Thanks chaps.”

He said smiling a smile that didn’t quite reach the eyes. They stepped back as he stood up to full height and turned with a flourish back towards his condo’s rusty door. As he turned the knob one of the children stammered out in a skittish breath. “H-how did you know about the site?!” Lucius pursed his lips going over what to say in his mind. He wasn’t going to bloody tell them that he hacked their computer connection and released tons of spyware on their worn out XPS Dell just for the mere fun of it. To relish how easy it was like breathing. A demented smile played upon his soft lips before vanishing as quickly as it came, replaced with a serious expression. The slate blue colored orbs looked down upon the children and Lucius spoke in a light tone. “Well I’m a wizard of course.” He then lifted his finger to his lips winking. “Our secret.” Then slammed the metal door shut behind him. Lucius didn’t bother wasting his time to hear what they responded with as he shuffled across the cold floor to the kitchen, but not after placing his trainers in their rightful place in the entry closet.

The next few hours were preoccupied with him sipping at some spiced tea in a deep blue teacup and nibbling on some biscuits, with his knees drawn to his chest in a protective shell. His television flickering between Animal Planet and the Discovery Channel during commercial breaks as he’d occasionally scrawl down his lab top’s screen; reading the Mayor’s latest emails to his mistress and making copies as they were routed to his inbox before forwarded to the woman. He could use a bit of extra cash after the man fired him from doing his online security systems to get some cheaper 2-bit corporate trash. It had only taken five minutes to crack in undetected and gain access to whatever he wanted. Served the man right, to be black-mailed for insulting a man’s hard work by replacing it with fool’s system. The straw colored haired male chuckled as he imagined Cassandra’s and his sister's disapproving glare at these actions but that wouldn’t happen as long as he didn’t tell the cop and Gracie now would it?

“Speaking of police work, I may as well get moving.” He groaned sliding from his comfy love seat to shuffle into his water closet. A hop, skip, and a jump later the five foot ten male wore a regal black jumper with a white polo underneath completed with a pair black trousers. His battle won white trainers fit comfortably onto his feet and the last touches to his ensemble was a knitted blue scarf, thin black sunglasses, and a silver Rolex wrist-watch. He ran fingers through his drying locks; the scent of coconut engulfed his figure as he hit the streets. He sneezed at the small hints of nature on the crisp air as he approached the Precinct. His hand fumbling in his pocket for his “Special Consultant” ID, a fancy piece of plastic with a nonsense title for a civilian/non-employee brought in to help do various dirty tasks that they themselves could not handle. Looking up he was greeted with Cassandra and a gent he hadn’t seen before with her.

“Mornin’ Cassandra and Cassandra’s friend.” He said dipping his head to her in polite greeting and eying the man curiously. A rather good looking fellow wasn’t he? Perhaps the lady was holding out on him during their latest drink that she had a new man in the sheets. She had seem preoccupied and troubled during their last meeting and Lucius was perceptive enough to know it was not her upcoming Homicide Examination.



Please tell me if you'd like more samples. I simply adore dark and twisted plots just as much as I love creating them.


Last edited by PainQueen on Wed Jan 15, 2014 4:04 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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PostPosted: Sat Jan 11, 2014 4:35 pm 
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Hmm, I would certainly love to rp with you someday! As for me, I mainly play a male role, despite being female, but I have a male's brain and personality at times. =D Anywho, if it is required, I will sometimes play a female role, but male is what I normally go for. I find a way to make things unique, as far as character development goes, I give my characters good personalities to work with and good interactions towards others. My ideas are a bit... you could say, interesting. =)

My preference on genre is usually ranged in these: Comedy, Romance, Action, Adventure, School, and Life

And, if a person can hold my interest, like detail or long posts (because I love to read) I may go a bit overboard on responses, give or take.

Since I don't feel like searching through my many rps... I will create a rp sample for you to read and hopefully enjoy. =)

Short Rp Sample Post
"Xin Jun, I never knew your condition was so bad... I thought that you were a strong character" Anna said quietly sitting on a wooden crate outside the narrow alleyway. It was a cold December day, and whenever they breathed, they could see each others' breath. Xin Jun sighed, his head lowered a moment. He was sitting on a wooden crate as well, across from Anna. "I am a strong character, I just never expected for that to affect me so much... That I could just.. fall apart like this." Who knew that Xin Jun was as fragile as glass, even though all she could think of how strong a character he was, like Bulletproof glass... "Xin Jun... Listen to me, okay?" she started to speak softly, and he lifted his head just a little so he was looking at her. "I understand the hardships you're going through, and I think that if you let me help you, things will be better off."

It was nothing but silence now between the two. It was rather quiet where they were as well, except for the occasional barking of dogs, the passing of cars and the slight chatter of wandering people. It took a moment for Xin Jun to think of what he wanted to say. Clearly he was having hardships, yes, Anna was right. But was it enough for him to want to get help from her? He barely knew her, and here she was wanting to help him out. It would be a little too much for his taste, but maybe he could allow it. If it turns out to be a mistake, he knows what would be best for him.

"Alright... I will let you." he finally spoke. Anna lifted her head quickly to look at him, a bit surprised that he would agree to such a thing. "Really? You'll let me help you?" He nodded his head, looking away from her and not wanting to make eye contact, feeling that what he said had made him uncomfortable. "You're a good man, Xin Jun Piao, a good man." she smiled. Just by what she had said, made his heart skip a beat, maybe a little due to the embarrassment he was feeling.


If you ever want to do a rp with me, send me a PM. =D

_________________

"Follow your Heart, Not your Head. Follow your Passion" - Taeyang


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PostPosted: Sat Jan 11, 2014 7:52 pm 
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Pain & Dove, thanks for your samples! I enjoyed reading them. I appreciate your interest and your time. For now I'm going to say no, but thank you again! Good luck!

_________________
I am always looking for literate writers:
I generally prefer 1x1 m/f, with at least a possibility of romance.

I am an advanced writer, and I give frequent, quality replies.

Genres that I love:
Romance, action/adventure, dystopian, sci-fi, period (Pride and Prejudice, Downton Abbey, 1920's) arena, modern, fantasy, and many more.
(The only genres that I do NOT enjoy are gruesome horror, and probably not supernatural or fandoms, although maybe.)

I write maturely, but fade-to-black for intimacy.

If you only play females or have any other restrictions, please let me know up front!

I can write in gdocs, email, or here. Also, see my second spoiler under "Want to write a book with me?"

Here is a sample of my writing, I would love to see a non-intro sample of your writing as well, please!

Non-Intro Writing Sample:
That night, the Low Risers saw stars for the first time.

Amber sucked in a soft gasp as she discerned them, between the swaying and spindly branches of the trees. Her fingertips found Leo’s wrist, begging for understanding. It was beautiful, the way they twinkled, even more beautiful than the blue sky, and scrolling clouds ... and she had come so close to never seeing this at all. How could the world contain such unornamented beauty? How much more was there yet to discover? Tears rolled down her temples and melted into her burnished bronze hair.

Clem was by himself, as usual. His bedroll was far away from the rest of them, nearest the outside of the trees. He had announced that he would stand watch, and that appeared to be what he was doing, sitting there in silence, back to them all, staring out into the darkness. As the hours rolled by, and everyone fell quiet, save for their deep breathing and Brom’s thunderous snores, Clem felt chills wash over him. Sweat coursed down his body, and he shivered, and closed his eyes upon sweet hallucinations of times he had never had with Cass, without the relief of sleep.

Some time later, he had no idea when, he rose to his feet and slipped from the camp, and their lives, with the stealth of a wraith.

In the morning, when they woke to find him gone, Amber panicked. That feeling of dreadful certainty closed around her heart, with all of its horror, and with all of its peace. She refused it, trying to buck it off like an unbroken horse does a saddle. In the end it was Flint, with his tracking skills, whom she’d had to follow in order to find Clemence. He lay in a gulley, his body just barely cold. Besides his sweat, nothing seemed wrong with him, until they lifted his black sweater to find the infected knife wound in his gut.

There had been ample time for Clem to get this treated; he had chosen not to. He had not committed suicide by traditional means, instead letting the nature of violence take its natural course, but it was difficult to view the situation as anything other than a wasteful choice.

Brom had known what they would find, he could see it in the terror on Amber’s face. When it was confirmed, however, all he said was: “He’ll be with Cass now. He’d have wanted that.”

Flower burst into blubbering tears against Flint’s side. Joe suggested they bury him, that’s what the Unbroken did, he had heard, and they were in Unbroken territory, now. To Amber it felt wrong, to put his body into the earth to decompose slowly and painfully. It was not a final enough ending. It was not swift, and shouldn’t he be, if he was to catch Cassandra? He had been Amber’s trainer, but she didn’t cry. She didn’t even harden over. She merely felt the pain, like a meat grinder to her internal organs, and did nothing about it, as Leo would have done.

It was a waste of a half day, scooping out ground and laying Clem in it, as the pallor increased in his bronze skin. Leo was now the only High Riser left on their expedition. Once the dirt was over him, Flower placed something pretty she had woven from blades of grass on top of it, with a feather stuck through the center of it. It was the blue-black feather of a raven she had found on the ground.

Amber began to speak awkwardly, her words long and drawn out, until it became apparent that she was singing, or trying to, for the first time. Her voice was rough and off-tune, not at all lovely, but it grated with emotion, very Amber-like:

“Gut the mother*******, for freedom an’ for feather
Cut their Unseen throats…”

Here Flower joined in, her voice a whispery warble, high-pitched and sweet, and Brom soon followed her, his voice deep and pleasant. Joe contributed a word here or there, but he didn’t seem to really grasp the concept of singing.

“...an’ spit their blood ‘cross both tiers
Meet us in the middle and we’ll strike together
Lay their corpses out and scream redemption in their ears.”

They all ended the song at different times, so it seemed that “scream redemption in their ears” echoed many times. It was sung far more quietly and sadly that it had been sung in the arena and elsewhere afterwards, as a victory song.

“Let’s move on, we’ve lost enough time,” Amber said, quietly and brusquely. Clem the peacemaker would not have wanted to delay them on their way to war.

[Many more samples available upon request.]

Want to write a book with me?:
I love the style of collaborative writing that can take place over Google Docs or a private pad. All those hours of writing can proudly see the light of day when written together, as if it is a book. Dialogue flows so much more smoothly, and it is actually a great deal easier to write. Redundancies are unnecessary, and it makes it far more enjoyable to read.

It works pretty much the same; you each have characters that you're responsible for controlling, or NPCs. If your character would react to something another character does or says, it could happen right away, rather than awkwardly, a post later. Dialogue, battle, and a slew of other things can be written with far greater ease. Long posts often still work, too!

References are important, since both writers are likely to play roles in describing things.

It requires a lot of collaboration, discussion, and flexibility, but it is well worth it! The level of integration and how exactly we do it varies from person to person. One person can act as "GM," creating an interactive story experience for the other writer, or both writers can have equal creative responsibility.

POV's: It can be written from third person omniscient (the way roleplaying is usually done) limited (where there is only one "main" character whose thoughts are shown) or even objective (no one's thoughts are seen). In the below sample, we are writing in third person limited, because both that writer and I are far too detailed, and we were trying to write a short story. Her character is the one whose thoughts are shown, so I take more responsibility with objective scene descriptions and such.
Great POV Help

However we want to do it is completely up to us. We could always just try it, and if you don't like it, we could go back to traditional RP.

This style improves the writer far more than anything else I have found in 12+ years of writing, and it is so fun!

Example:
(My text is brown, my partner's is blue.)
http://i805.photobucket.com/albums/yy334/ohgodofwriting/Mobile%20Uploads/ScreenShot2014-01-13at80901PM_zps9345aa3f.png
Plots:
Dimension-Traveling (All genres, total freedom, "never ending"):
This is a plot about two characters who can travel through time, space, and dimensions. They can literally show up in any plot or any genre that we, the two writers, want them to. They can visit our other characters, we could pop into other role-plays and include other people, this thing is...imagination-roving.

It can range between any setting: period drama, sci-fi, fantasy of any kind, anthropomorphous, apocalyptic, gladiators, modern, pirate...
And almost any genre (though it will probably always be action/adventure on some level): horror, comedy, drama, romance...

Literally ANYTHING you can think of. You don't have to want to do all of them, but you should want to do some of them, and more.

Character A (can be you or me) has long-lived a lonely, but exciting (and oftentimes horrifying) life of traveling through time, space, and dimensions without warning and against their will. It seems that the universe takes this character places to accomplish certain things, i.e. helping people on their quests, keeping someone from dying, basically to make something happen or to keep something from happening. The character moves on to a different timeline approximately once they have succeeded or failed at this vague mission. It can be years or it can be hours, although it is probably most often days or weeks.

Our story begins when character A runs into character B. For whatever reason, they discover that they can travel together.

Character B should have some special skills that can help in some way, otherwise it would be a horrible damsel-in-distress situation, without relief. (No matter the gender.) Either way, it will take B time to adjust, and it will be traumatic, and they will need saving at first. But if they start out being a competent person, this phase will be shorter. Perhaps they are a cop, an assassin, a genius, a historian, a botanist, anything really that could lend skills, however small, to this lifestyle.

I may have an intro for this, whether or not we use it, if that helps you.


Grave Writers:
On top of every grave is a small box instead of a tombstone. These boxes can be filled with the belongings of the deceased, or mourners oftentimes put letters in the boxes so that they can feel as if they can communicate with their loved ones. I need help with this plot, but my idea was that my character could be a girl who reads these letters and writes back. Your character could be a police officer or detective trying to find this fraud, or a man writing to someone (although that seems a slower start). I don't want this plot to be too morbid/creepy/supernatural, I don't think. I am open to ideas!


Extreme Fantasy (not elves):
I want an RP that puts no limits on my imagination and creativity. There are two options:

Option One: I envision something akin to a medieval setting, but with the ability to change anything we want. Giant, highly intelligent animals, incredibly gorgeous scenery, beautiful mood-music. Someone who loves art and using references, and who really enjoys detail, would be perfect for this. It would work with most any plot, but something simple would really let the setting shine.

Option Two: In a modern, "normal" world, seers who can "see" things superimposed over the natural world. Beautiful images of light, gruesome images of darkness. Again, it can work with a lot of plots, but that should take a backseat to the main focus, which would be visual imagery and imagination.


The What-If Machine:
What if there was a machine that let you see what your life would be like if you had made a different choice? It lets you see the past that you missed out on, and the future you can never have.
What if you married that old girlfriend?
What if you majored in something else?
What if you got cleaned up and never made those mistakes?
What if you had taken more risks?

This plot can work for literally anything. It can take you back into an old RP that you loved, give a well-loved character an alternate life, anything.
Send a message to me!


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PostPosted: Wed Jan 15, 2014 11:46 am 
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Hi there! I'd really love to do the unconventional (no elves) fantasy plot with you. Together we could create truly beautiful and surreal landscapes to explore. Forests of glass trees, their leaves tinkling like chimes when the wind blows. Gardens where mechanical peacocks roam, pecking pearls from the dirt. Iron staircases that seem to spiral up to the stars.

Although I'm a woman, I prefer writing male characters. But I certainly can write women when the occasion calls for it. Like you, I love using reference art. Recently, I've found myself particular inspired by artists like Michael Parkes, Daniel Merriam, and David Delamare. I enjoy romance, but usually as part of some larger plot. And I'm perfectly happy to fade to black for sexual stuff if that's what my partner prefers.

Oh yeah, and I should definitely be able to post at least once a week. But I'm totally understanding when other people need a break. I never nag other people to post.

Instead of posting a sample, I'm going to give you a link to a thread I'm writing here. I think that can be more revealing than just a sample, because you can see the context, and also see the way I interact with my writing partner. After all, I could write the most beautiful posts in the world, but that doesn't matter if I'm completely ignoring everything my partner did in their previous post.

viewtopic.php?f=81&t=41159

I consider myself a pretty skilled writer (I've even sold some of my short stories). But if my posts aren't the sort of thing you're looking for, that's fine! No hard feelings.

Thanks for your time!


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PostPosted: Wed Jan 15, 2014 3:13 pm 
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Falcon,

I enjoyed reading your thread, thank you! I would like to pursue a plot with you.

The scenes you described to me are lovely. They strike me as steampunk fantasy, but I would actually love to do another steampunk role-play - I just didn't have any ideas for one. I love the thought of adding a strong fantastical element to it.

Your idea, and especially the art of Michael Parkes, reminded me of the movie "The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus."
[Maybe that is one way that we could explain the fantasy if we wanted - that one or both characters walked into this world that defies all sense of reality. It would be best if one of the characters was "from" that world already, though, I think. (I think this idea becomes unnecessary if we go with my lower idea.)]

We could do like a steampunk fantasy circus type of thing. It could focus on an actual circus troupe or merely possess elements of the circus genre (I think I would prefer the former). It would probably have two or more main characters, with a bunch of NPCs, or it could be a handful of "main" characters for each of us, who we alternate our focus on.

I'm always drawn to the concept of two men being in love with the same woman, and this would be a fair way to do it, since it wouldn't be hard for me to play more of the troupe characters as background folk.

What are your thoughts on all of that? Sorry, I know I threw a lot of ideas atcha'.

_________________
I am always looking for literate writers:
I generally prefer 1x1 m/f, with at least a possibility of romance.

I am an advanced writer, and I give frequent, quality replies.

Genres that I love:
Romance, action/adventure, dystopian, sci-fi, period (Pride and Prejudice, Downton Abbey, 1920's) arena, modern, fantasy, and many more.
(The only genres that I do NOT enjoy are gruesome horror, and probably not supernatural or fandoms, although maybe.)

I write maturely, but fade-to-black for intimacy.

If you only play females or have any other restrictions, please let me know up front!

I can write in gdocs, email, or here. Also, see my second spoiler under "Want to write a book with me?"

Here is a sample of my writing, I would love to see a non-intro sample of your writing as well, please!

Non-Intro Writing Sample:
That night, the Low Risers saw stars for the first time.

Amber sucked in a soft gasp as she discerned them, between the swaying and spindly branches of the trees. Her fingertips found Leo’s wrist, begging for understanding. It was beautiful, the way they twinkled, even more beautiful than the blue sky, and scrolling clouds ... and she had come so close to never seeing this at all. How could the world contain such unornamented beauty? How much more was there yet to discover? Tears rolled down her temples and melted into her burnished bronze hair.

Clem was by himself, as usual. His bedroll was far away from the rest of them, nearest the outside of the trees. He had announced that he would stand watch, and that appeared to be what he was doing, sitting there in silence, back to them all, staring out into the darkness. As the hours rolled by, and everyone fell quiet, save for their deep breathing and Brom’s thunderous snores, Clem felt chills wash over him. Sweat coursed down his body, and he shivered, and closed his eyes upon sweet hallucinations of times he had never had with Cass, without the relief of sleep.

Some time later, he had no idea when, he rose to his feet and slipped from the camp, and their lives, with the stealth of a wraith.

In the morning, when they woke to find him gone, Amber panicked. That feeling of dreadful certainty closed around her heart, with all of its horror, and with all of its peace. She refused it, trying to buck it off like an unbroken horse does a saddle. In the end it was Flint, with his tracking skills, whom she’d had to follow in order to find Clemence. He lay in a gulley, his body just barely cold. Besides his sweat, nothing seemed wrong with him, until they lifted his black sweater to find the infected knife wound in his gut.

There had been ample time for Clem to get this treated; he had chosen not to. He had not committed suicide by traditional means, instead letting the nature of violence take its natural course, but it was difficult to view the situation as anything other than a wasteful choice.

Brom had known what they would find, he could see it in the terror on Amber’s face. When it was confirmed, however, all he said was: “He’ll be with Cass now. He’d have wanted that.”

Flower burst into blubbering tears against Flint’s side. Joe suggested they bury him, that’s what the Unbroken did, he had heard, and they were in Unbroken territory, now. To Amber it felt wrong, to put his body into the earth to decompose slowly and painfully. It was not a final enough ending. It was not swift, and shouldn’t he be, if he was to catch Cassandra? He had been Amber’s trainer, but she didn’t cry. She didn’t even harden over. She merely felt the pain, like a meat grinder to her internal organs, and did nothing about it, as Leo would have done.

It was a waste of a half day, scooping out ground and laying Clem in it, as the pallor increased in his bronze skin. Leo was now the only High Riser left on their expedition. Once the dirt was over him, Flower placed something pretty she had woven from blades of grass on top of it, with a feather stuck through the center of it. It was the blue-black feather of a raven she had found on the ground.

Amber began to speak awkwardly, her words long and drawn out, until it became apparent that she was singing, or trying to, for the first time. Her voice was rough and off-tune, not at all lovely, but it grated with emotion, very Amber-like:

“Gut the mother*******, for freedom an’ for feather
Cut their Unseen throats…”

Here Flower joined in, her voice a whispery warble, high-pitched and sweet, and Brom soon followed her, his voice deep and pleasant. Joe contributed a word here or there, but he didn’t seem to really grasp the concept of singing.

“...an’ spit their blood ‘cross both tiers
Meet us in the middle and we’ll strike together
Lay their corpses out and scream redemption in their ears.”

They all ended the song at different times, so it seemed that “scream redemption in their ears” echoed many times. It was sung far more quietly and sadly that it had been sung in the arena and elsewhere afterwards, as a victory song.

“Let’s move on, we’ve lost enough time,” Amber said, quietly and brusquely. Clem the peacemaker would not have wanted to delay them on their way to war.

[Many more samples available upon request.]

Want to write a book with me?:
I love the style of collaborative writing that can take place over Google Docs or a private pad. All those hours of writing can proudly see the light of day when written together, as if it is a book. Dialogue flows so much more smoothly, and it is actually a great deal easier to write. Redundancies are unnecessary, and it makes it far more enjoyable to read.

It works pretty much the same; you each have characters that you're responsible for controlling, or NPCs. If your character would react to something another character does or says, it could happen right away, rather than awkwardly, a post later. Dialogue, battle, and a slew of other things can be written with far greater ease. Long posts often still work, too!

References are important, since both writers are likely to play roles in describing things.

It requires a lot of collaboration, discussion, and flexibility, but it is well worth it! The level of integration and how exactly we do it varies from person to person. One person can act as "GM," creating an interactive story experience for the other writer, or both writers can have equal creative responsibility.

POV's: It can be written from third person omniscient (the way roleplaying is usually done) limited (where there is only one "main" character whose thoughts are shown) or even objective (no one's thoughts are seen). In the below sample, we are writing in third person limited, because both that writer and I are far too detailed, and we were trying to write a short story. Her character is the one whose thoughts are shown, so I take more responsibility with objective scene descriptions and such.
Great POV Help

However we want to do it is completely up to us. We could always just try it, and if you don't like it, we could go back to traditional RP.

This style improves the writer far more than anything else I have found in 12+ years of writing, and it is so fun!

Example:
(My text is brown, my partner's is blue.)
http://i805.photobucket.com/albums/yy334/ohgodofwriting/Mobile%20Uploads/ScreenShot2014-01-13at80901PM_zps9345aa3f.png
Plots:
Dimension-Traveling (All genres, total freedom, "never ending"):
This is a plot about two characters who can travel through time, space, and dimensions. They can literally show up in any plot or any genre that we, the two writers, want them to. They can visit our other characters, we could pop into other role-plays and include other people, this thing is...imagination-roving.

It can range between any setting: period drama, sci-fi, fantasy of any kind, anthropomorphous, apocalyptic, gladiators, modern, pirate...
And almost any genre (though it will probably always be action/adventure on some level): horror, comedy, drama, romance...

Literally ANYTHING you can think of. You don't have to want to do all of them, but you should want to do some of them, and more.

Character A (can be you or me) has long-lived a lonely, but exciting (and oftentimes horrifying) life of traveling through time, space, and dimensions without warning and against their will. It seems that the universe takes this character places to accomplish certain things, i.e. helping people on their quests, keeping someone from dying, basically to make something happen or to keep something from happening. The character moves on to a different timeline approximately once they have succeeded or failed at this vague mission. It can be years or it can be hours, although it is probably most often days or weeks.

Our story begins when character A runs into character B. For whatever reason, they discover that they can travel together.

Character B should have some special skills that can help in some way, otherwise it would be a horrible damsel-in-distress situation, without relief. (No matter the gender.) Either way, it will take B time to adjust, and it will be traumatic, and they will need saving at first. But if they start out being a competent person, this phase will be shorter. Perhaps they are a cop, an assassin, a genius, a historian, a botanist, anything really that could lend skills, however small, to this lifestyle.

I may have an intro for this, whether or not we use it, if that helps you.


Grave Writers:
On top of every grave is a small box instead of a tombstone. These boxes can be filled with the belongings of the deceased, or mourners oftentimes put letters in the boxes so that they can feel as if they can communicate with their loved ones. I need help with this plot, but my idea was that my character could be a girl who reads these letters and writes back. Your character could be a police officer or detective trying to find this fraud, or a man writing to someone (although that seems a slower start). I don't want this plot to be too morbid/creepy/supernatural, I don't think. I am open to ideas!


Extreme Fantasy (not elves):
I want an RP that puts no limits on my imagination and creativity. There are two options:

Option One: I envision something akin to a medieval setting, but with the ability to change anything we want. Giant, highly intelligent animals, incredibly gorgeous scenery, beautiful mood-music. Someone who loves art and using references, and who really enjoys detail, would be perfect for this. It would work with most any plot, but something simple would really let the setting shine.

Option Two: In a modern, "normal" world, seers who can "see" things superimposed over the natural world. Beautiful images of light, gruesome images of darkness. Again, it can work with a lot of plots, but that should take a backseat to the main focus, which would be visual imagery and imagination.


The What-If Machine:
What if there was a machine that let you see what your life would be like if you had made a different choice? It lets you see the past that you missed out on, and the future you can never have.
What if you married that old girlfriend?
What if you majored in something else?
What if you got cleaned up and never made those mistakes?
What if you had taken more risks?

This plot can work for literally anything. It can take you back into an old RP that you loved, give a well-loved character an alternate life, anything.
Send a message to me!


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PostPosted: Wed Jan 15, 2014 4:01 pm 

I'm no longer comatose!

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Hello!
Sorry for posting again, I already know you turned me down! But you'll love working with Falcon. I'm doing that thread with her she linked, and each post of her's makes me flash a smile. We talk over pm on what directions the plot should take since we basically just jumped right into one of her ideas. I look forward to stalking your roleplay!!


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PostPosted: Wed Jan 15, 2014 4:05 pm 
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Thanks friend! I appreciate the recommendation!

It was cool to get to see your work again when I was reading that thread!

I very much look forward to being stalked ... I love stalkers. xD They're like fans. If you keep up with reading it, you should shoot us ideas/comments and stuff, that'd be cool.

_________________
I am always looking for literate writers:
I generally prefer 1x1 m/f, with at least a possibility of romance.

I am an advanced writer, and I give frequent, quality replies.

Genres that I love:
Romance, action/adventure, dystopian, sci-fi, period (Pride and Prejudice, Downton Abbey, 1920's) arena, modern, fantasy, and many more.
(The only genres that I do NOT enjoy are gruesome horror, and probably not supernatural or fandoms, although maybe.)

I write maturely, but fade-to-black for intimacy.

If you only play females or have any other restrictions, please let me know up front!

I can write in gdocs, email, or here. Also, see my second spoiler under "Want to write a book with me?"

Here is a sample of my writing, I would love to see a non-intro sample of your writing as well, please!

Non-Intro Writing Sample:
That night, the Low Risers saw stars for the first time.

Amber sucked in a soft gasp as she discerned them, between the swaying and spindly branches of the trees. Her fingertips found Leo’s wrist, begging for understanding. It was beautiful, the way they twinkled, even more beautiful than the blue sky, and scrolling clouds ... and she had come so close to never seeing this at all. How could the world contain such unornamented beauty? How much more was there yet to discover? Tears rolled down her temples and melted into her burnished bronze hair.

Clem was by himself, as usual. His bedroll was far away from the rest of them, nearest the outside of the trees. He had announced that he would stand watch, and that appeared to be what he was doing, sitting there in silence, back to them all, staring out into the darkness. As the hours rolled by, and everyone fell quiet, save for their deep breathing and Brom’s thunderous snores, Clem felt chills wash over him. Sweat coursed down his body, and he shivered, and closed his eyes upon sweet hallucinations of times he had never had with Cass, without the relief of sleep.

Some time later, he had no idea when, he rose to his feet and slipped from the camp, and their lives, with the stealth of a wraith.

In the morning, when they woke to find him gone, Amber panicked. That feeling of dreadful certainty closed around her heart, with all of its horror, and with all of its peace. She refused it, trying to buck it off like an unbroken horse does a saddle. In the end it was Flint, with his tracking skills, whom she’d had to follow in order to find Clemence. He lay in a gulley, his body just barely cold. Besides his sweat, nothing seemed wrong with him, until they lifted his black sweater to find the infected knife wound in his gut.

There had been ample time for Clem to get this treated; he had chosen not to. He had not committed suicide by traditional means, instead letting the nature of violence take its natural course, but it was difficult to view the situation as anything other than a wasteful choice.

Brom had known what they would find, he could see it in the terror on Amber’s face. When it was confirmed, however, all he said was: “He’ll be with Cass now. He’d have wanted that.”

Flower burst into blubbering tears against Flint’s side. Joe suggested they bury him, that’s what the Unbroken did, he had heard, and they were in Unbroken territory, now. To Amber it felt wrong, to put his body into the earth to decompose slowly and painfully. It was not a final enough ending. It was not swift, and shouldn’t he be, if he was to catch Cassandra? He had been Amber’s trainer, but she didn’t cry. She didn’t even harden over. She merely felt the pain, like a meat grinder to her internal organs, and did nothing about it, as Leo would have done.

It was a waste of a half day, scooping out ground and laying Clem in it, as the pallor increased in his bronze skin. Leo was now the only High Riser left on their expedition. Once the dirt was over him, Flower placed something pretty she had woven from blades of grass on top of it, with a feather stuck through the center of it. It was the blue-black feather of a raven she had found on the ground.

Amber began to speak awkwardly, her words long and drawn out, until it became apparent that she was singing, or trying to, for the first time. Her voice was rough and off-tune, not at all lovely, but it grated with emotion, very Amber-like:

“Gut the mother*******, for freedom an’ for feather
Cut their Unseen throats…”

Here Flower joined in, her voice a whispery warble, high-pitched and sweet, and Brom soon followed her, his voice deep and pleasant. Joe contributed a word here or there, but he didn’t seem to really grasp the concept of singing.

“...an’ spit their blood ‘cross both tiers
Meet us in the middle and we’ll strike together
Lay their corpses out and scream redemption in their ears.”

They all ended the song at different times, so it seemed that “scream redemption in their ears” echoed many times. It was sung far more quietly and sadly that it had been sung in the arena and elsewhere afterwards, as a victory song.

“Let’s move on, we’ve lost enough time,” Amber said, quietly and brusquely. Clem the peacemaker would not have wanted to delay them on their way to war.

[Many more samples available upon request.]

Want to write a book with me?:
I love the style of collaborative writing that can take place over Google Docs or a private pad. All those hours of writing can proudly see the light of day when written together, as if it is a book. Dialogue flows so much more smoothly, and it is actually a great deal easier to write. Redundancies are unnecessary, and it makes it far more enjoyable to read.

It works pretty much the same; you each have characters that you're responsible for controlling, or NPCs. If your character would react to something another character does or says, it could happen right away, rather than awkwardly, a post later. Dialogue, battle, and a slew of other things can be written with far greater ease. Long posts often still work, too!

References are important, since both writers are likely to play roles in describing things.

It requires a lot of collaboration, discussion, and flexibility, but it is well worth it! The level of integration and how exactly we do it varies from person to person. One person can act as "GM," creating an interactive story experience for the other writer, or both writers can have equal creative responsibility.

POV's: It can be written from third person omniscient (the way roleplaying is usually done) limited (where there is only one "main" character whose thoughts are shown) or even objective (no one's thoughts are seen). In the below sample, we are writing in third person limited, because both that writer and I are far too detailed, and we were trying to write a short story. Her character is the one whose thoughts are shown, so I take more responsibility with objective scene descriptions and such.
Great POV Help

However we want to do it is completely up to us. We could always just try it, and if you don't like it, we could go back to traditional RP.

This style improves the writer far more than anything else I have found in 12+ years of writing, and it is so fun!

Example:
(My text is brown, my partner's is blue.)
http://i805.photobucket.com/albums/yy334/ohgodofwriting/Mobile%20Uploads/ScreenShot2014-01-13at80901PM_zps9345aa3f.png
Plots:
Dimension-Traveling (All genres, total freedom, "never ending"):
This is a plot about two characters who can travel through time, space, and dimensions. They can literally show up in any plot or any genre that we, the two writers, want them to. They can visit our other characters, we could pop into other role-plays and include other people, this thing is...imagination-roving.

It can range between any setting: period drama, sci-fi, fantasy of any kind, anthropomorphous, apocalyptic, gladiators, modern, pirate...
And almost any genre (though it will probably always be action/adventure on some level): horror, comedy, drama, romance...

Literally ANYTHING you can think of. You don't have to want to do all of them, but you should want to do some of them, and more.

Character A (can be you or me) has long-lived a lonely, but exciting (and oftentimes horrifying) life of traveling through time, space, and dimensions without warning and against their will. It seems that the universe takes this character places to accomplish certain things, i.e. helping people on their quests, keeping someone from dying, basically to make something happen or to keep something from happening. The character moves on to a different timeline approximately once they have succeeded or failed at this vague mission. It can be years or it can be hours, although it is probably most often days or weeks.

Our story begins when character A runs into character B. For whatever reason, they discover that they can travel together.

Character B should have some special skills that can help in some way, otherwise it would be a horrible damsel-in-distress situation, without relief. (No matter the gender.) Either way, it will take B time to adjust, and it will be traumatic, and they will need saving at first. But if they start out being a competent person, this phase will be shorter. Perhaps they are a cop, an assassin, a genius, a historian, a botanist, anything really that could lend skills, however small, to this lifestyle.

I may have an intro for this, whether or not we use it, if that helps you.


Grave Writers:
On top of every grave is a small box instead of a tombstone. These boxes can be filled with the belongings of the deceased, or mourners oftentimes put letters in the boxes so that they can feel as if they can communicate with their loved ones. I need help with this plot, but my idea was that my character could be a girl who reads these letters and writes back. Your character could be a police officer or detective trying to find this fraud, or a man writing to someone (although that seems a slower start). I don't want this plot to be too morbid/creepy/supernatural, I don't think. I am open to ideas!


Extreme Fantasy (not elves):
I want an RP that puts no limits on my imagination and creativity. There are two options:

Option One: I envision something akin to a medieval setting, but with the ability to change anything we want. Giant, highly intelligent animals, incredibly gorgeous scenery, beautiful mood-music. Someone who loves art and using references, and who really enjoys detail, would be perfect for this. It would work with most any plot, but something simple would really let the setting shine.

Option Two: In a modern, "normal" world, seers who can "see" things superimposed over the natural world. Beautiful images of light, gruesome images of darkness. Again, it can work with a lot of plots, but that should take a backseat to the main focus, which would be visual imagery and imagination.


The What-If Machine:
What if there was a machine that let you see what your life would be like if you had made a different choice? It lets you see the past that you missed out on, and the future you can never have.
What if you married that old girlfriend?
What if you majored in something else?
What if you got cleaned up and never made those mistakes?
What if you had taken more risks?

This plot can work for literally anything. It can take you back into an old RP that you loved, give a well-loved character an alternate life, anything.
Send a message to me!


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PostPosted: Wed Jan 15, 2014 4:17 pm 

I'm no longer comatose!

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Of Course!
You'll hardly know I'm there! If you have any advice for me that would be fabulous. English wasn't my first language so sometimes I have trouble writing well. Especially with punctuation.
And I'm setting something big up right now. I'll shoot you an invite when it's plot page is completed. Now I have to reply to Falcon's and my roleplay. Cheers!


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PostPosted: Wed Jan 15, 2014 6:08 pm 
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Yay! So glad that we'll get a chance to write together.

Awhile back, I participated in a steampunk/fairyland crossover rp and it was very cool. The combination of magic with that level of technology created a really interesting word -- air battles between dragons and dirigibles, cities powered by clockwork and blood sacrifices. And it gives you a lot of freedom to create stuff, both magical and technological, without ever losing a strong sense of wonder and mystery.

CIRCUS! That's a fantastic idea. I've been dying to do a good magical circus rp for ages! And it gives our characters a reason for traveling around the world, constantly discovering new marvels. And yes, it would allow for a wonderful cast of NPCs. I think stories flow better if NPCs can be shared between writers. But over time, we may discover NPCs that one of us particularly enjoys playing, and that's cool too.

I'm always up for a good love triangle! Obviously, I would write one of the men. I'd even be happy to write both the men, if you'd like.

I'm kind of a "jump right in and see what happens" kind of writer. But if you want to do some pre-planning beyond the basic concept, that's cool. On the other hand, if you don't, just let me know and one of us can get this thread started.

Looking forward to writing with you!


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PostPosted: Wed Jan 15, 2014 6:17 pm 
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[Hiding content, top-secret writing ideas were here. xD ]

_________________
I am always looking for literate writers:
I generally prefer 1x1 m/f, with at least a possibility of romance.

I am an advanced writer, and I give frequent, quality replies.

Genres that I love:
Romance, action/adventure, dystopian, sci-fi, period (Pride and Prejudice, Downton Abbey, 1920's) arena, modern, fantasy, and many more.
(The only genres that I do NOT enjoy are gruesome horror, and probably not supernatural or fandoms, although maybe.)

I write maturely, but fade-to-black for intimacy.

If you only play females or have any other restrictions, please let me know up front!

I can write in gdocs, email, or here. Also, see my second spoiler under "Want to write a book with me?"

Here is a sample of my writing, I would love to see a non-intro sample of your writing as well, please!

Non-Intro Writing Sample:
That night, the Low Risers saw stars for the first time.

Amber sucked in a soft gasp as she discerned them, between the swaying and spindly branches of the trees. Her fingertips found Leo’s wrist, begging for understanding. It was beautiful, the way they twinkled, even more beautiful than the blue sky, and scrolling clouds ... and she had come so close to never seeing this at all. How could the world contain such unornamented beauty? How much more was there yet to discover? Tears rolled down her temples and melted into her burnished bronze hair.

Clem was by himself, as usual. His bedroll was far away from the rest of them, nearest the outside of the trees. He had announced that he would stand watch, and that appeared to be what he was doing, sitting there in silence, back to them all, staring out into the darkness. As the hours rolled by, and everyone fell quiet, save for their deep breathing and Brom’s thunderous snores, Clem felt chills wash over him. Sweat coursed down his body, and he shivered, and closed his eyes upon sweet hallucinations of times he had never had with Cass, without the relief of sleep.

Some time later, he had no idea when, he rose to his feet and slipped from the camp, and their lives, with the stealth of a wraith.

In the morning, when they woke to find him gone, Amber panicked. That feeling of dreadful certainty closed around her heart, with all of its horror, and with all of its peace. She refused it, trying to buck it off like an unbroken horse does a saddle. In the end it was Flint, with his tracking skills, whom she’d had to follow in order to find Clemence. He lay in a gulley, his body just barely cold. Besides his sweat, nothing seemed wrong with him, until they lifted his black sweater to find the infected knife wound in his gut.

There had been ample time for Clem to get this treated; he had chosen not to. He had not committed suicide by traditional means, instead letting the nature of violence take its natural course, but it was difficult to view the situation as anything other than a wasteful choice.

Brom had known what they would find, he could see it in the terror on Amber’s face. When it was confirmed, however, all he said was: “He’ll be with Cass now. He’d have wanted that.”

Flower burst into blubbering tears against Flint’s side. Joe suggested they bury him, that’s what the Unbroken did, he had heard, and they were in Unbroken territory, now. To Amber it felt wrong, to put his body into the earth to decompose slowly and painfully. It was not a final enough ending. It was not swift, and shouldn’t he be, if he was to catch Cassandra? He had been Amber’s trainer, but she didn’t cry. She didn’t even harden over. She merely felt the pain, like a meat grinder to her internal organs, and did nothing about it, as Leo would have done.

It was a waste of a half day, scooping out ground and laying Clem in it, as the pallor increased in his bronze skin. Leo was now the only High Riser left on their expedition. Once the dirt was over him, Flower placed something pretty she had woven from blades of grass on top of it, with a feather stuck through the center of it. It was the blue-black feather of a raven she had found on the ground.

Amber began to speak awkwardly, her words long and drawn out, until it became apparent that she was singing, or trying to, for the first time. Her voice was rough and off-tune, not at all lovely, but it grated with emotion, very Amber-like:

“Gut the mother*******, for freedom an’ for feather
Cut their Unseen throats…”

Here Flower joined in, her voice a whispery warble, high-pitched and sweet, and Brom soon followed her, his voice deep and pleasant. Joe contributed a word here or there, but he didn’t seem to really grasp the concept of singing.

“...an’ spit their blood ‘cross both tiers
Meet us in the middle and we’ll strike together
Lay their corpses out and scream redemption in their ears.”

They all ended the song at different times, so it seemed that “scream redemption in their ears” echoed many times. It was sung far more quietly and sadly that it had been sung in the arena and elsewhere afterwards, as a victory song.

“Let’s move on, we’ve lost enough time,” Amber said, quietly and brusquely. Clem the peacemaker would not have wanted to delay them on their way to war.

[Many more samples available upon request.]

Want to write a book with me?:
I love the style of collaborative writing that can take place over Google Docs or a private pad. All those hours of writing can proudly see the light of day when written together, as if it is a book. Dialogue flows so much more smoothly, and it is actually a great deal easier to write. Redundancies are unnecessary, and it makes it far more enjoyable to read.

It works pretty much the same; you each have characters that you're responsible for controlling, or NPCs. If your character would react to something another character does or says, it could happen right away, rather than awkwardly, a post later. Dialogue, battle, and a slew of other things can be written with far greater ease. Long posts often still work, too!

References are important, since both writers are likely to play roles in describing things.

It requires a lot of collaboration, discussion, and flexibility, but it is well worth it! The level of integration and how exactly we do it varies from person to person. One person can act as "GM," creating an interactive story experience for the other writer, or both writers can have equal creative responsibility.

POV's: It can be written from third person omniscient (the way roleplaying is usually done) limited (where there is only one "main" character whose thoughts are shown) or even objective (no one's thoughts are seen). In the below sample, we are writing in third person limited, because both that writer and I are far too detailed, and we were trying to write a short story. Her character is the one whose thoughts are shown, so I take more responsibility with objective scene descriptions and such.
Great POV Help

However we want to do it is completely up to us. We could always just try it, and if you don't like it, we could go back to traditional RP.

This style improves the writer far more than anything else I have found in 12+ years of writing, and it is so fun!

Example:
(My text is brown, my partner's is blue.)
http://i805.photobucket.com/albums/yy334/ohgodofwriting/Mobile%20Uploads/ScreenShot2014-01-13at80901PM_zps9345aa3f.png
Plots:
Dimension-Traveling (All genres, total freedom, "never ending"):
This is a plot about two characters who can travel through time, space, and dimensions. They can literally show up in any plot or any genre that we, the two writers, want them to. They can visit our other characters, we could pop into other role-plays and include other people, this thing is...imagination-roving.

It can range between any setting: period drama, sci-fi, fantasy of any kind, anthropomorphous, apocalyptic, gladiators, modern, pirate...
And almost any genre (though it will probably always be action/adventure on some level): horror, comedy, drama, romance...

Literally ANYTHING you can think of. You don't have to want to do all of them, but you should want to do some of them, and more.

Character A (can be you or me) has long-lived a lonely, but exciting (and oftentimes horrifying) life of traveling through time, space, and dimensions without warning and against their will. It seems that the universe takes this character places to accomplish certain things, i.e. helping people on their quests, keeping someone from dying, basically to make something happen or to keep something from happening. The character moves on to a different timeline approximately once they have succeeded or failed at this vague mission. It can be years or it can be hours, although it is probably most often days or weeks.

Our story begins when character A runs into character B. For whatever reason, they discover that they can travel together.

Character B should have some special skills that can help in some way, otherwise it would be a horrible damsel-in-distress situation, without relief. (No matter the gender.) Either way, it will take B time to adjust, and it will be traumatic, and they will need saving at first. But if they start out being a competent person, this phase will be shorter. Perhaps they are a cop, an assassin, a genius, a historian, a botanist, anything really that could lend skills, however small, to this lifestyle.

I may have an intro for this, whether or not we use it, if that helps you.


Grave Writers:
On top of every grave is a small box instead of a tombstone. These boxes can be filled with the belongings of the deceased, or mourners oftentimes put letters in the boxes so that they can feel as if they can communicate with their loved ones. I need help with this plot, but my idea was that my character could be a girl who reads these letters and writes back. Your character could be a police officer or detective trying to find this fraud, or a man writing to someone (although that seems a slower start). I don't want this plot to be too morbid/creepy/supernatural, I don't think. I am open to ideas!


Extreme Fantasy (not elves):
I want an RP that puts no limits on my imagination and creativity. There are two options:

Option One: I envision something akin to a medieval setting, but with the ability to change anything we want. Giant, highly intelligent animals, incredibly gorgeous scenery, beautiful mood-music. Someone who loves art and using references, and who really enjoys detail, would be perfect for this. It would work with most any plot, but something simple would really let the setting shine.

Option Two: In a modern, "normal" world, seers who can "see" things superimposed over the natural world. Beautiful images of light, gruesome images of darkness. Again, it can work with a lot of plots, but that should take a backseat to the main focus, which would be visual imagery and imagination.


The What-If Machine:
What if there was a machine that let you see what your life would be like if you had made a different choice? It lets you see the past that you missed out on, and the future you can never have.
What if you married that old girlfriend?
What if you majored in something else?
What if you got cleaned up and never made those mistakes?
What if you had taken more risks?

This plot can work for literally anything. It can take you back into an old RP that you loved, give a well-loved character an alternate life, anything.
Send a message to me!


Last edited by OhGodOfWriting on Fri Jan 17, 2014 2:49 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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PostThis post was deleted by OhGodOfWriting on Wed Jan 15, 2014 7:34 pm.
Reason: double post
PostPosted: Thu Jan 16, 2014 11:52 am 
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Hey there! I just finished catching up on all my replies, so please forgive me if I'm a bit out of it. But I wanted to get back to you as soon as possible.

Yeah, I think I know what you mean about magic. I don't want it to be reduced to something that you can learn from reading books and have total control over. I don't want it to become a mundane tool. My vision is that it's something which comes from the heart, heavily affected by mood and imagination -- so it's entirely different for different people, often unpredictable and spontaneous. I want it to be used as a metaphor for the thoughts and emotions of various characters, and also used to create some beautiful imagery. Does that sound alright to you?

Since your character is going to be a ballerina, I can't help thinking of the Commedia dell’arte. So one of my male characters will probably be a clown or jester like Pierrot, and another will be an acrobatic daredevil like Harlequin. That seems like a good rivalry between two very different types of men.

My preference would be doing a thread on this forum, but I'm open to other possibilities.

Thanks for all the cool reference art! Very lovely and inspiring stuff. I'm sure I will be posting some of my own links once we get started. In fact, we should definitely have a OOC thread for this, so we can post all our reference stuff there.

Okay, I gotta do the dishes, eat and sleep -- not necessarily in that order. Take care! I'm really looking forward to this!


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PostPosted: Fri Jan 17, 2014 2:50 pm 
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All right everyone! I have happily started a RP with Falcon, but

I AM STILL LOOKING

(always).

So send me your samples! ^^

_________________
I am always looking for literate writers:
I generally prefer 1x1 m/f, with at least a possibility of romance.

I am an advanced writer, and I give frequent, quality replies.

Genres that I love:
Romance, action/adventure, dystopian, sci-fi, period (Pride and Prejudice, Downton Abbey, 1920's) arena, modern, fantasy, and many more.
(The only genres that I do NOT enjoy are gruesome horror, and probably not supernatural or fandoms, although maybe.)

I write maturely, but fade-to-black for intimacy.

If you only play females or have any other restrictions, please let me know up front!

I can write in gdocs, email, or here. Also, see my second spoiler under "Want to write a book with me?"

Here is a sample of my writing, I would love to see a non-intro sample of your writing as well, please!

Non-Intro Writing Sample:
That night, the Low Risers saw stars for the first time.

Amber sucked in a soft gasp as she discerned them, between the swaying and spindly branches of the trees. Her fingertips found Leo’s wrist, begging for understanding. It was beautiful, the way they twinkled, even more beautiful than the blue sky, and scrolling clouds ... and she had come so close to never seeing this at all. How could the world contain such unornamented beauty? How much more was there yet to discover? Tears rolled down her temples and melted into her burnished bronze hair.

Clem was by himself, as usual. His bedroll was far away from the rest of them, nearest the outside of the trees. He had announced that he would stand watch, and that appeared to be what he was doing, sitting there in silence, back to them all, staring out into the darkness. As the hours rolled by, and everyone fell quiet, save for their deep breathing and Brom’s thunderous snores, Clem felt chills wash over him. Sweat coursed down his body, and he shivered, and closed his eyes upon sweet hallucinations of times he had never had with Cass, without the relief of sleep.

Some time later, he had no idea when, he rose to his feet and slipped from the camp, and their lives, with the stealth of a wraith.

In the morning, when they woke to find him gone, Amber panicked. That feeling of dreadful certainty closed around her heart, with all of its horror, and with all of its peace. She refused it, trying to buck it off like an unbroken horse does a saddle. In the end it was Flint, with his tracking skills, whom she’d had to follow in order to find Clemence. He lay in a gulley, his body just barely cold. Besides his sweat, nothing seemed wrong with him, until they lifted his black sweater to find the infected knife wound in his gut.

There had been ample time for Clem to get this treated; he had chosen not to. He had not committed suicide by traditional means, instead letting the nature of violence take its natural course, but it was difficult to view the situation as anything other than a wasteful choice.

Brom had known what they would find, he could see it in the terror on Amber’s face. When it was confirmed, however, all he said was: “He’ll be with Cass now. He’d have wanted that.”

Flower burst into blubbering tears against Flint’s side. Joe suggested they bury him, that’s what the Unbroken did, he had heard, and they were in Unbroken territory, now. To Amber it felt wrong, to put his body into the earth to decompose slowly and painfully. It was not a final enough ending. It was not swift, and shouldn’t he be, if he was to catch Cassandra? He had been Amber’s trainer, but she didn’t cry. She didn’t even harden over. She merely felt the pain, like a meat grinder to her internal organs, and did nothing about it, as Leo would have done.

It was a waste of a half day, scooping out ground and laying Clem in it, as the pallor increased in his bronze skin. Leo was now the only High Riser left on their expedition. Once the dirt was over him, Flower placed something pretty she had woven from blades of grass on top of it, with a feather stuck through the center of it. It was the blue-black feather of a raven she had found on the ground.

Amber began to speak awkwardly, her words long and drawn out, until it became apparent that she was singing, or trying to, for the first time. Her voice was rough and off-tune, not at all lovely, but it grated with emotion, very Amber-like:

“Gut the mother*******, for freedom an’ for feather
Cut their Unseen throats…”

Here Flower joined in, her voice a whispery warble, high-pitched and sweet, and Brom soon followed her, his voice deep and pleasant. Joe contributed a word here or there, but he didn’t seem to really grasp the concept of singing.

“...an’ spit their blood ‘cross both tiers
Meet us in the middle and we’ll strike together
Lay their corpses out and scream redemption in their ears.”

They all ended the song at different times, so it seemed that “scream redemption in their ears” echoed many times. It was sung far more quietly and sadly that it had been sung in the arena and elsewhere afterwards, as a victory song.

“Let’s move on, we’ve lost enough time,” Amber said, quietly and brusquely. Clem the peacemaker would not have wanted to delay them on their way to war.

[Many more samples available upon request.]

Want to write a book with me?:
I love the style of collaborative writing that can take place over Google Docs or a private pad. All those hours of writing can proudly see the light of day when written together, as if it is a book. Dialogue flows so much more smoothly, and it is actually a great deal easier to write. Redundancies are unnecessary, and it makes it far more enjoyable to read.

It works pretty much the same; you each have characters that you're responsible for controlling, or NPCs. If your character would react to something another character does or says, it could happen right away, rather than awkwardly, a post later. Dialogue, battle, and a slew of other things can be written with far greater ease. Long posts often still work, too!

References are important, since both writers are likely to play roles in describing things.

It requires a lot of collaboration, discussion, and flexibility, but it is well worth it! The level of integration and how exactly we do it varies from person to person. One person can act as "GM," creating an interactive story experience for the other writer, or both writers can have equal creative responsibility.

POV's: It can be written from third person omniscient (the way roleplaying is usually done) limited (where there is only one "main" character whose thoughts are shown) or even objective (no one's thoughts are seen). In the below sample, we are writing in third person limited, because both that writer and I are far too detailed, and we were trying to write a short story. Her character is the one whose thoughts are shown, so I take more responsibility with objective scene descriptions and such.
Great POV Help

However we want to do it is completely up to us. We could always just try it, and if you don't like it, we could go back to traditional RP.

This style improves the writer far more than anything else I have found in 12+ years of writing, and it is so fun!

Example:
(My text is brown, my partner's is blue.)
http://i805.photobucket.com/albums/yy334/ohgodofwriting/Mobile%20Uploads/ScreenShot2014-01-13at80901PM_zps9345aa3f.png
Plots:
Dimension-Traveling (All genres, total freedom, "never ending"):
This is a plot about two characters who can travel through time, space, and dimensions. They can literally show up in any plot or any genre that we, the two writers, want them to. They can visit our other characters, we could pop into other role-plays and include other people, this thing is...imagination-roving.

It can range between any setting: period drama, sci-fi, fantasy of any kind, anthropomorphous, apocalyptic, gladiators, modern, pirate...
And almost any genre (though it will probably always be action/adventure on some level): horror, comedy, drama, romance...

Literally ANYTHING you can think of. You don't have to want to do all of them, but you should want to do some of them, and more.

Character A (can be you or me) has long-lived a lonely, but exciting (and oftentimes horrifying) life of traveling through time, space, and dimensions without warning and against their will. It seems that the universe takes this character places to accomplish certain things, i.e. helping people on their quests, keeping someone from dying, basically to make something happen or to keep something from happening. The character moves on to a different timeline approximately once they have succeeded or failed at this vague mission. It can be years or it can be hours, although it is probably most often days or weeks.

Our story begins when character A runs into character B. For whatever reason, they discover that they can travel together.

Character B should have some special skills that can help in some way, otherwise it would be a horrible damsel-in-distress situation, without relief. (No matter the gender.) Either way, it will take B time to adjust, and it will be traumatic, and they will need saving at first. But if they start out being a competent person, this phase will be shorter. Perhaps they are a cop, an assassin, a genius, a historian, a botanist, anything really that could lend skills, however small, to this lifestyle.

I may have an intro for this, whether or not we use it, if that helps you.


Grave Writers:
On top of every grave is a small box instead of a tombstone. These boxes can be filled with the belongings of the deceased, or mourners oftentimes put letters in the boxes so that they can feel as if they can communicate with their loved ones. I need help with this plot, but my idea was that my character could be a girl who reads these letters and writes back. Your character could be a police officer or detective trying to find this fraud, or a man writing to someone (although that seems a slower start). I don't want this plot to be too morbid/creepy/supernatural, I don't think. I am open to ideas!


Extreme Fantasy (not elves):
I want an RP that puts no limits on my imagination and creativity. There are two options:

Option One: I envision something akin to a medieval setting, but with the ability to change anything we want. Giant, highly intelligent animals, incredibly gorgeous scenery, beautiful mood-music. Someone who loves art and using references, and who really enjoys detail, would be perfect for this. It would work with most any plot, but something simple would really let the setting shine.

Option Two: In a modern, "normal" world, seers who can "see" things superimposed over the natural world. Beautiful images of light, gruesome images of darkness. Again, it can work with a lot of plots, but that should take a backseat to the main focus, which would be visual imagery and imagination.


The What-If Machine:
What if there was a machine that let you see what your life would be like if you had made a different choice? It lets you see the past that you missed out on, and the future you can never have.
What if you married that old girlfriend?
What if you majored in something else?
What if you got cleaned up and never made those mistakes?
What if you had taken more risks?

This plot can work for literally anything. It can take you back into an old RP that you loved, give a well-loved character an alternate life, anything.
Send a message to me!


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PostPosted: Tue Jan 21, 2014 1:20 pm 
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Samples are being rescinded due to my own privacy. Thanks for reading.

_________________
Many of the best writers are only journalists who know how to put a creative twist on life.


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PostPosted: Tue Jan 21, 2014 4:14 pm 
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It was a really tough call but I'm going to say no for now, Golden. You've got some really cool ideas, though! Good luck to you.

_________________
I am always looking for literate writers:
I generally prefer 1x1 m/f, with at least a possibility of romance.

I am an advanced writer, and I give frequent, quality replies.

Genres that I love:
Romance, action/adventure, dystopian, sci-fi, period (Pride and Prejudice, Downton Abbey, 1920's) arena, modern, fantasy, and many more.
(The only genres that I do NOT enjoy are gruesome horror, and probably not supernatural or fandoms, although maybe.)

I write maturely, but fade-to-black for intimacy.

If you only play females or have any other restrictions, please let me know up front!

I can write in gdocs, email, or here. Also, see my second spoiler under "Want to write a book with me?"

Here is a sample of my writing, I would love to see a non-intro sample of your writing as well, please!

Non-Intro Writing Sample:
That night, the Low Risers saw stars for the first time.

Amber sucked in a soft gasp as she discerned them, between the swaying and spindly branches of the trees. Her fingertips found Leo’s wrist, begging for understanding. It was beautiful, the way they twinkled, even more beautiful than the blue sky, and scrolling clouds ... and she had come so close to never seeing this at all. How could the world contain such unornamented beauty? How much more was there yet to discover? Tears rolled down her temples and melted into her burnished bronze hair.

Clem was by himself, as usual. His bedroll was far away from the rest of them, nearest the outside of the trees. He had announced that he would stand watch, and that appeared to be what he was doing, sitting there in silence, back to them all, staring out into the darkness. As the hours rolled by, and everyone fell quiet, save for their deep breathing and Brom’s thunderous snores, Clem felt chills wash over him. Sweat coursed down his body, and he shivered, and closed his eyes upon sweet hallucinations of times he had never had with Cass, without the relief of sleep.

Some time later, he had no idea when, he rose to his feet and slipped from the camp, and their lives, with the stealth of a wraith.

In the morning, when they woke to find him gone, Amber panicked. That feeling of dreadful certainty closed around her heart, with all of its horror, and with all of its peace. She refused it, trying to buck it off like an unbroken horse does a saddle. In the end it was Flint, with his tracking skills, whom she’d had to follow in order to find Clemence. He lay in a gulley, his body just barely cold. Besides his sweat, nothing seemed wrong with him, until they lifted his black sweater to find the infected knife wound in his gut.

There had been ample time for Clem to get this treated; he had chosen not to. He had not committed suicide by traditional means, instead letting the nature of violence take its natural course, but it was difficult to view the situation as anything other than a wasteful choice.

Brom had known what they would find, he could see it in the terror on Amber’s face. When it was confirmed, however, all he said was: “He’ll be with Cass now. He’d have wanted that.”

Flower burst into blubbering tears against Flint’s side. Joe suggested they bury him, that’s what the Unbroken did, he had heard, and they were in Unbroken territory, now. To Amber it felt wrong, to put his body into the earth to decompose slowly and painfully. It was not a final enough ending. It was not swift, and shouldn’t he be, if he was to catch Cassandra? He had been Amber’s trainer, but she didn’t cry. She didn’t even harden over. She merely felt the pain, like a meat grinder to her internal organs, and did nothing about it, as Leo would have done.

It was a waste of a half day, scooping out ground and laying Clem in it, as the pallor increased in his bronze skin. Leo was now the only High Riser left on their expedition. Once the dirt was over him, Flower placed something pretty she had woven from blades of grass on top of it, with a feather stuck through the center of it. It was the blue-black feather of a raven she had found on the ground.

Amber began to speak awkwardly, her words long and drawn out, until it became apparent that she was singing, or trying to, for the first time. Her voice was rough and off-tune, not at all lovely, but it grated with emotion, very Amber-like:

“Gut the mother*******, for freedom an’ for feather
Cut their Unseen throats…”

Here Flower joined in, her voice a whispery warble, high-pitched and sweet, and Brom soon followed her, his voice deep and pleasant. Joe contributed a word here or there, but he didn’t seem to really grasp the concept of singing.

“...an’ spit their blood ‘cross both tiers
Meet us in the middle and we’ll strike together
Lay their corpses out and scream redemption in their ears.”

They all ended the song at different times, so it seemed that “scream redemption in their ears” echoed many times. It was sung far more quietly and sadly that it had been sung in the arena and elsewhere afterwards, as a victory song.

“Let’s move on, we’ve lost enough time,” Amber said, quietly and brusquely. Clem the peacemaker would not have wanted to delay them on their way to war.

[Many more samples available upon request.]

Want to write a book with me?:
I love the style of collaborative writing that can take place over Google Docs or a private pad. All those hours of writing can proudly see the light of day when written together, as if it is a book. Dialogue flows so much more smoothly, and it is actually a great deal easier to write. Redundancies are unnecessary, and it makes it far more enjoyable to read.

It works pretty much the same; you each have characters that you're responsible for controlling, or NPCs. If your character would react to something another character does or says, it could happen right away, rather than awkwardly, a post later. Dialogue, battle, and a slew of other things can be written with far greater ease. Long posts often still work, too!

References are important, since both writers are likely to play roles in describing things.

It requires a lot of collaboration, discussion, and flexibility, but it is well worth it! The level of integration and how exactly we do it varies from person to person. One person can act as "GM," creating an interactive story experience for the other writer, or both writers can have equal creative responsibility.

POV's: It can be written from third person omniscient (the way roleplaying is usually done) limited (where there is only one "main" character whose thoughts are shown) or even objective (no one's thoughts are seen). In the below sample, we are writing in third person limited, because both that writer and I are far too detailed, and we were trying to write a short story. Her character is the one whose thoughts are shown, so I take more responsibility with objective scene descriptions and such.
Great POV Help

However we want to do it is completely up to us. We could always just try it, and if you don't like it, we could go back to traditional RP.

This style improves the writer far more than anything else I have found in 12+ years of writing, and it is so fun!

Example:
(My text is brown, my partner's is blue.)
http://i805.photobucket.com/albums/yy334/ohgodofwriting/Mobile%20Uploads/ScreenShot2014-01-13at80901PM_zps9345aa3f.png
Plots:
Dimension-Traveling (All genres, total freedom, "never ending"):
This is a plot about two characters who can travel through time, space, and dimensions. They can literally show up in any plot or any genre that we, the two writers, want them to. They can visit our other characters, we could pop into other role-plays and include other people, this thing is...imagination-roving.

It can range between any setting: period drama, sci-fi, fantasy of any kind, anthropomorphous, apocalyptic, gladiators, modern, pirate...
And almost any genre (though it will probably always be action/adventure on some level): horror, comedy, drama, romance...

Literally ANYTHING you can think of. You don't have to want to do all of them, but you should want to do some of them, and more.

Character A (can be you or me) has long-lived a lonely, but exciting (and oftentimes horrifying) life of traveling through time, space, and dimensions without warning and against their will. It seems that the universe takes this character places to accomplish certain things, i.e. helping people on their quests, keeping someone from dying, basically to make something happen or to keep something from happening. The character moves on to a different timeline approximately once they have succeeded or failed at this vague mission. It can be years or it can be hours, although it is probably most often days or weeks.

Our story begins when character A runs into character B. For whatever reason, they discover that they can travel together.

Character B should have some special skills that can help in some way, otherwise it would be a horrible damsel-in-distress situation, without relief. (No matter the gender.) Either way, it will take B time to adjust, and it will be traumatic, and they will need saving at first. But if they start out being a competent person, this phase will be shorter. Perhaps they are a cop, an assassin, a genius, a historian, a botanist, anything really that could lend skills, however small, to this lifestyle.

I may have an intro for this, whether or not we use it, if that helps you.


Grave Writers:
On top of every grave is a small box instead of a tombstone. These boxes can be filled with the belongings of the deceased, or mourners oftentimes put letters in the boxes so that they can feel as if they can communicate with their loved ones. I need help with this plot, but my idea was that my character could be a girl who reads these letters and writes back. Your character could be a police officer or detective trying to find this fraud, or a man writing to someone (although that seems a slower start). I don't want this plot to be too morbid/creepy/supernatural, I don't think. I am open to ideas!


Extreme Fantasy (not elves):
I want an RP that puts no limits on my imagination and creativity. There are two options:

Option One: I envision something akin to a medieval setting, but with the ability to change anything we want. Giant, highly intelligent animals, incredibly gorgeous scenery, beautiful mood-music. Someone who loves art and using references, and who really enjoys detail, would be perfect for this. It would work with most any plot, but something simple would really let the setting shine.

Option Two: In a modern, "normal" world, seers who can "see" things superimposed over the natural world. Beautiful images of light, gruesome images of darkness. Again, it can work with a lot of plots, but that should take a backseat to the main focus, which would be visual imagery and imagination.


The What-If Machine:
What if there was a machine that let you see what your life would be like if you had made a different choice? It lets you see the past that you missed out on, and the future you can never have.
What if you married that old girlfriend?
What if you majored in something else?
What if you got cleaned up and never made those mistakes?
What if you had taken more risks?

This plot can work for literally anything. It can take you back into an old RP that you loved, give a well-loved character an alternate life, anything.
Send a message to me!


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PostPosted: Tue Dec 08, 2015 9:47 am 
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Joined: Tue Feb 05, 2013 10:33 pm
Posts: 32
Blog: View Blog (0)

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STILL OPEN

_________________
I am always looking for literate writers:
I generally prefer 1x1 m/f, with at least a possibility of romance.

I am an advanced writer, and I give frequent, quality replies.

Genres that I love:
Romance, action/adventure, dystopian, sci-fi, period (Pride and Prejudice, Downton Abbey, 1920's) arena, modern, fantasy, and many more.
(The only genres that I do NOT enjoy are gruesome horror, and probably not supernatural or fandoms, although maybe.)

I write maturely, but fade-to-black for intimacy.

If you only play females or have any other restrictions, please let me know up front!

I can write in gdocs, email, or here. Also, see my second spoiler under "Want to write a book with me?"

Here is a sample of my writing, I would love to see a non-intro sample of your writing as well, please!

Non-Intro Writing Sample:
That night, the Low Risers saw stars for the first time.

Amber sucked in a soft gasp as she discerned them, between the swaying and spindly branches of the trees. Her fingertips found Leo’s wrist, begging for understanding. It was beautiful, the way they twinkled, even more beautiful than the blue sky, and scrolling clouds ... and she had come so close to never seeing this at all. How could the world contain such unornamented beauty? How much more was there yet to discover? Tears rolled down her temples and melted into her burnished bronze hair.

Clem was by himself, as usual. His bedroll was far away from the rest of them, nearest the outside of the trees. He had announced that he would stand watch, and that appeared to be what he was doing, sitting there in silence, back to them all, staring out into the darkness. As the hours rolled by, and everyone fell quiet, save for their deep breathing and Brom’s thunderous snores, Clem felt chills wash over him. Sweat coursed down his body, and he shivered, and closed his eyes upon sweet hallucinations of times he had never had with Cass, without the relief of sleep.

Some time later, he had no idea when, he rose to his feet and slipped from the camp, and their lives, with the stealth of a wraith.

In the morning, when they woke to find him gone, Amber panicked. That feeling of dreadful certainty closed around her heart, with all of its horror, and with all of its peace. She refused it, trying to buck it off like an unbroken horse does a saddle. In the end it was Flint, with his tracking skills, whom she’d had to follow in order to find Clemence. He lay in a gulley, his body just barely cold. Besides his sweat, nothing seemed wrong with him, until they lifted his black sweater to find the infected knife wound in his gut.

There had been ample time for Clem to get this treated; he had chosen not to. He had not committed suicide by traditional means, instead letting the nature of violence take its natural course, but it was difficult to view the situation as anything other than a wasteful choice.

Brom had known what they would find, he could see it in the terror on Amber’s face. When it was confirmed, however, all he said was: “He’ll be with Cass now. He’d have wanted that.”

Flower burst into blubbering tears against Flint’s side. Joe suggested they bury him, that’s what the Unbroken did, he had heard, and they were in Unbroken territory, now. To Amber it felt wrong, to put his body into the earth to decompose slowly and painfully. It was not a final enough ending. It was not swift, and shouldn’t he be, if he was to catch Cassandra? He had been Amber’s trainer, but she didn’t cry. She didn’t even harden over. She merely felt the pain, like a meat grinder to her internal organs, and did nothing about it, as Leo would have done.

It was a waste of a half day, scooping out ground and laying Clem in it, as the pallor increased in his bronze skin. Leo was now the only High Riser left on their expedition. Once the dirt was over him, Flower placed something pretty she had woven from blades of grass on top of it, with a feather stuck through the center of it. It was the blue-black feather of a raven she had found on the ground.

Amber began to speak awkwardly, her words long and drawn out, until it became apparent that she was singing, or trying to, for the first time. Her voice was rough and off-tune, not at all lovely, but it grated with emotion, very Amber-like:

“Gut the mother*******, for freedom an’ for feather
Cut their Unseen throats…”

Here Flower joined in, her voice a whispery warble, high-pitched and sweet, and Brom soon followed her, his voice deep and pleasant. Joe contributed a word here or there, but he didn’t seem to really grasp the concept of singing.

“...an’ spit their blood ‘cross both tiers
Meet us in the middle and we’ll strike together
Lay their corpses out and scream redemption in their ears.”

They all ended the song at different times, so it seemed that “scream redemption in their ears” echoed many times. It was sung far more quietly and sadly that it had been sung in the arena and elsewhere afterwards, as a victory song.

“Let’s move on, we’ve lost enough time,” Amber said, quietly and brusquely. Clem the peacemaker would not have wanted to delay them on their way to war.

[Many more samples available upon request.]

Want to write a book with me?:
I love the style of collaborative writing that can take place over Google Docs or a private pad. All those hours of writing can proudly see the light of day when written together, as if it is a book. Dialogue flows so much more smoothly, and it is actually a great deal easier to write. Redundancies are unnecessary, and it makes it far more enjoyable to read.

It works pretty much the same; you each have characters that you're responsible for controlling, or NPCs. If your character would react to something another character does or says, it could happen right away, rather than awkwardly, a post later. Dialogue, battle, and a slew of other things can be written with far greater ease. Long posts often still work, too!

References are important, since both writers are likely to play roles in describing things.

It requires a lot of collaboration, discussion, and flexibility, but it is well worth it! The level of integration and how exactly we do it varies from person to person. One person can act as "GM," creating an interactive story experience for the other writer, or both writers can have equal creative responsibility.

POV's: It can be written from third person omniscient (the way roleplaying is usually done) limited (where there is only one "main" character whose thoughts are shown) or even objective (no one's thoughts are seen). In the below sample, we are writing in third person limited, because both that writer and I are far too detailed, and we were trying to write a short story. Her character is the one whose thoughts are shown, so I take more responsibility with objective scene descriptions and such.
Great POV Help

However we want to do it is completely up to us. We could always just try it, and if you don't like it, we could go back to traditional RP.

This style improves the writer far more than anything else I have found in 12+ years of writing, and it is so fun!

Example:
(My text is brown, my partner's is blue.)
http://i805.photobucket.com/albums/yy334/ohgodofwriting/Mobile%20Uploads/ScreenShot2014-01-13at80901PM_zps9345aa3f.png
Plots:
Dimension-Traveling (All genres, total freedom, "never ending"):
This is a plot about two characters who can travel through time, space, and dimensions. They can literally show up in any plot or any genre that we, the two writers, want them to. They can visit our other characters, we could pop into other role-plays and include other people, this thing is...imagination-roving.

It can range between any setting: period drama, sci-fi, fantasy of any kind, anthropomorphous, apocalyptic, gladiators, modern, pirate...
And almost any genre (though it will probably always be action/adventure on some level): horror, comedy, drama, romance...

Literally ANYTHING you can think of. You don't have to want to do all of them, but you should want to do some of them, and more.

Character A (can be you or me) has long-lived a lonely, but exciting (and oftentimes horrifying) life of traveling through time, space, and dimensions without warning and against their will. It seems that the universe takes this character places to accomplish certain things, i.e. helping people on their quests, keeping someone from dying, basically to make something happen or to keep something from happening. The character moves on to a different timeline approximately once they have succeeded or failed at this vague mission. It can be years or it can be hours, although it is probably most often days or weeks.

Our story begins when character A runs into character B. For whatever reason, they discover that they can travel together.

Character B should have some special skills that can help in some way, otherwise it would be a horrible damsel-in-distress situation, without relief. (No matter the gender.) Either way, it will take B time to adjust, and it will be traumatic, and they will need saving at first. But if they start out being a competent person, this phase will be shorter. Perhaps they are a cop, an assassin, a genius, a historian, a botanist, anything really that could lend skills, however small, to this lifestyle.

I may have an intro for this, whether or not we use it, if that helps you.


Grave Writers:
On top of every grave is a small box instead of a tombstone. These boxes can be filled with the belongings of the deceased, or mourners oftentimes put letters in the boxes so that they can feel as if they can communicate with their loved ones. I need help with this plot, but my idea was that my character could be a girl who reads these letters and writes back. Your character could be a police officer or detective trying to find this fraud, or a man writing to someone (although that seems a slower start). I don't want this plot to be too morbid/creepy/supernatural, I don't think. I am open to ideas!


Extreme Fantasy (not elves):
I want an RP that puts no limits on my imagination and creativity. There are two options:

Option One: I envision something akin to a medieval setting, but with the ability to change anything we want. Giant, highly intelligent animals, incredibly gorgeous scenery, beautiful mood-music. Someone who loves art and using references, and who really enjoys detail, would be perfect for this. It would work with most any plot, but something simple would really let the setting shine.

Option Two: In a modern, "normal" world, seers who can "see" things superimposed over the natural world. Beautiful images of light, gruesome images of darkness. Again, it can work with a lot of plots, but that should take a backseat to the main focus, which would be visual imagery and imagination.


The What-If Machine:
What if there was a machine that let you see what your life would be like if you had made a different choice? It lets you see the past that you missed out on, and the future you can never have.
What if you married that old girlfriend?
What if you majored in something else?
What if you got cleaned up and never made those mistakes?
What if you had taken more risks?

This plot can work for literally anything. It can take you back into an old RP that you loved, give a well-loved character an alternate life, anything.
Send a message to me!


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PostPosted: Fri Dec 25, 2015 10:01 am 
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Happy holidays!

_________________
I am always looking for literate writers:
I generally prefer 1x1 m/f, with at least a possibility of romance.

I am an advanced writer, and I give frequent, quality replies.

Genres that I love:
Romance, action/adventure, dystopian, sci-fi, period (Pride and Prejudice, Downton Abbey, 1920's) arena, modern, fantasy, and many more.
(The only genres that I do NOT enjoy are gruesome horror, and probably not supernatural or fandoms, although maybe.)

I write maturely, but fade-to-black for intimacy.

If you only play females or have any other restrictions, please let me know up front!

I can write in gdocs, email, or here. Also, see my second spoiler under "Want to write a book with me?"

Here is a sample of my writing, I would love to see a non-intro sample of your writing as well, please!

Non-Intro Writing Sample:
That night, the Low Risers saw stars for the first time.

Amber sucked in a soft gasp as she discerned them, between the swaying and spindly branches of the trees. Her fingertips found Leo’s wrist, begging for understanding. It was beautiful, the way they twinkled, even more beautiful than the blue sky, and scrolling clouds ... and she had come so close to never seeing this at all. How could the world contain such unornamented beauty? How much more was there yet to discover? Tears rolled down her temples and melted into her burnished bronze hair.

Clem was by himself, as usual. His bedroll was far away from the rest of them, nearest the outside of the trees. He had announced that he would stand watch, and that appeared to be what he was doing, sitting there in silence, back to them all, staring out into the darkness. As the hours rolled by, and everyone fell quiet, save for their deep breathing and Brom’s thunderous snores, Clem felt chills wash over him. Sweat coursed down his body, and he shivered, and closed his eyes upon sweet hallucinations of times he had never had with Cass, without the relief of sleep.

Some time later, he had no idea when, he rose to his feet and slipped from the camp, and their lives, with the stealth of a wraith.

In the morning, when they woke to find him gone, Amber panicked. That feeling of dreadful certainty closed around her heart, with all of its horror, and with all of its peace. She refused it, trying to buck it off like an unbroken horse does a saddle. In the end it was Flint, with his tracking skills, whom she’d had to follow in order to find Clemence. He lay in a gulley, his body just barely cold. Besides his sweat, nothing seemed wrong with him, until they lifted his black sweater to find the infected knife wound in his gut.

There had been ample time for Clem to get this treated; he had chosen not to. He had not committed suicide by traditional means, instead letting the nature of violence take its natural course, but it was difficult to view the situation as anything other than a wasteful choice.

Brom had known what they would find, he could see it in the terror on Amber’s face. When it was confirmed, however, all he said was: “He’ll be with Cass now. He’d have wanted that.”

Flower burst into blubbering tears against Flint’s side. Joe suggested they bury him, that’s what the Unbroken did, he had heard, and they were in Unbroken territory, now. To Amber it felt wrong, to put his body into the earth to decompose slowly and painfully. It was not a final enough ending. It was not swift, and shouldn’t he be, if he was to catch Cassandra? He had been Amber’s trainer, but she didn’t cry. She didn’t even harden over. She merely felt the pain, like a meat grinder to her internal organs, and did nothing about it, as Leo would have done.

It was a waste of a half day, scooping out ground and laying Clem in it, as the pallor increased in his bronze skin. Leo was now the only High Riser left on their expedition. Once the dirt was over him, Flower placed something pretty she had woven from blades of grass on top of it, with a feather stuck through the center of it. It was the blue-black feather of a raven she had found on the ground.

Amber began to speak awkwardly, her words long and drawn out, until it became apparent that she was singing, or trying to, for the first time. Her voice was rough and off-tune, not at all lovely, but it grated with emotion, very Amber-like:

“Gut the mother*******, for freedom an’ for feather
Cut their Unseen throats…”

Here Flower joined in, her voice a whispery warble, high-pitched and sweet, and Brom soon followed her, his voice deep and pleasant. Joe contributed a word here or there, but he didn’t seem to really grasp the concept of singing.

“...an’ spit their blood ‘cross both tiers
Meet us in the middle and we’ll strike together
Lay their corpses out and scream redemption in their ears.”

They all ended the song at different times, so it seemed that “scream redemption in their ears” echoed many times. It was sung far more quietly and sadly that it had been sung in the arena and elsewhere afterwards, as a victory song.

“Let’s move on, we’ve lost enough time,” Amber said, quietly and brusquely. Clem the peacemaker would not have wanted to delay them on their way to war.

[Many more samples available upon request.]

Want to write a book with me?:
I love the style of collaborative writing that can take place over Google Docs or a private pad. All those hours of writing can proudly see the light of day when written together, as if it is a book. Dialogue flows so much more smoothly, and it is actually a great deal easier to write. Redundancies are unnecessary, and it makes it far more enjoyable to read.

It works pretty much the same; you each have characters that you're responsible for controlling, or NPCs. If your character would react to something another character does or says, it could happen right away, rather than awkwardly, a post later. Dialogue, battle, and a slew of other things can be written with far greater ease. Long posts often still work, too!

References are important, since both writers are likely to play roles in describing things.

It requires a lot of collaboration, discussion, and flexibility, but it is well worth it! The level of integration and how exactly we do it varies from person to person. One person can act as "GM," creating an interactive story experience for the other writer, or both writers can have equal creative responsibility.

POV's: It can be written from third person omniscient (the way roleplaying is usually done) limited (where there is only one "main" character whose thoughts are shown) or even objective (no one's thoughts are seen). In the below sample, we are writing in third person limited, because both that writer and I are far too detailed, and we were trying to write a short story. Her character is the one whose thoughts are shown, so I take more responsibility with objective scene descriptions and such.
Great POV Help

However we want to do it is completely up to us. We could always just try it, and if you don't like it, we could go back to traditional RP.

This style improves the writer far more than anything else I have found in 12+ years of writing, and it is so fun!

Example:
(My text is brown, my partner's is blue.)
http://i805.photobucket.com/albums/yy334/ohgodofwriting/Mobile%20Uploads/ScreenShot2014-01-13at80901PM_zps9345aa3f.png
Plots:
Dimension-Traveling (All genres, total freedom, "never ending"):
This is a plot about two characters who can travel through time, space, and dimensions. They can literally show up in any plot or any genre that we, the two writers, want them to. They can visit our other characters, we could pop into other role-plays and include other people, this thing is...imagination-roving.

It can range between any setting: period drama, sci-fi, fantasy of any kind, anthropomorphous, apocalyptic, gladiators, modern, pirate...
And almost any genre (though it will probably always be action/adventure on some level): horror, comedy, drama, romance...

Literally ANYTHING you can think of. You don't have to want to do all of them, but you should want to do some of them, and more.

Character A (can be you or me) has long-lived a lonely, but exciting (and oftentimes horrifying) life of traveling through time, space, and dimensions without warning and against their will. It seems that the universe takes this character places to accomplish certain things, i.e. helping people on their quests, keeping someone from dying, basically to make something happen or to keep something from happening. The character moves on to a different timeline approximately once they have succeeded or failed at this vague mission. It can be years or it can be hours, although it is probably most often days or weeks.

Our story begins when character A runs into character B. For whatever reason, they discover that they can travel together.

Character B should have some special skills that can help in some way, otherwise it would be a horrible damsel-in-distress situation, without relief. (No matter the gender.) Either way, it will take B time to adjust, and it will be traumatic, and they will need saving at first. But if they start out being a competent person, this phase will be shorter. Perhaps they are a cop, an assassin, a genius, a historian, a botanist, anything really that could lend skills, however small, to this lifestyle.

I may have an intro for this, whether or not we use it, if that helps you.


Grave Writers:
On top of every grave is a small box instead of a tombstone. These boxes can be filled with the belongings of the deceased, or mourners oftentimes put letters in the boxes so that they can feel as if they can communicate with their loved ones. I need help with this plot, but my idea was that my character could be a girl who reads these letters and writes back. Your character could be a police officer or detective trying to find this fraud, or a man writing to someone (although that seems a slower start). I don't want this plot to be too morbid/creepy/supernatural, I don't think. I am open to ideas!


Extreme Fantasy (not elves):
I want an RP that puts no limits on my imagination and creativity. There are two options:

Option One: I envision something akin to a medieval setting, but with the ability to change anything we want. Giant, highly intelligent animals, incredibly gorgeous scenery, beautiful mood-music. Someone who loves art and using references, and who really enjoys detail, would be perfect for this. It would work with most any plot, but something simple would really let the setting shine.

Option Two: In a modern, "normal" world, seers who can "see" things superimposed over the natural world. Beautiful images of light, gruesome images of darkness. Again, it can work with a lot of plots, but that should take a backseat to the main focus, which would be visual imagery and imagination.


The What-If Machine:
What if there was a machine that let you see what your life would be like if you had made a different choice? It lets you see the past that you missed out on, and the future you can never have.
What if you married that old girlfriend?
What if you majored in something else?
What if you got cleaned up and never made those mistakes?
What if you had taken more risks?

This plot can work for literally anything. It can take you back into an old RP that you loved, give a well-loved character an alternate life, anything.
Send a message to me!


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PostPosted: Fri Dec 25, 2015 1:24 pm 

PLaying SQUAD with TASQ

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Location: Captain, Infantry (Retired)
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Hello OGoW. Allow me to introduce myself I am an older veteran with a plethora of worldly experiences. When I was 17, I took a Creative Writing Course in High School that I thoroughly enjoyed. What my English teacher inadvertently did was to motivate me to explore what experiences I would like to go out into the world and grasp. This caused me to create a list of goals which I have in turn accomplished. The purpose of this endeavor was to gather a set of experiences that would provide me with background information to use in writing one day when I am older. I have arrived.

When I was 23 years of age, I was commissioned an Infantry Second Lieutenant (Reserve) in the US Army. When I was 25, I received a Bachelor's Degree in Political Science from the University of Massachusetts. Between the ages of 23 and 35 I worked as a Reserve Police Officer in three Western Massachusetts communities. At the age of 29, I bought my own home. At the age of 39, I married my best friend and at the age of 40, I embarked upon a career as a Stay at Home dad. I now have four beautiful young children.

These six events were the culmination of each point on that list of goals I created at age 17. One unwritten goal was achieved fairly recent. In November, I wrote 52,000+ words for the National Novel Writing Month contest (NaNoWriMo) and am about to begin the editing and rewriting process in preparation for publishing.


OhGodOfWriting wrote:
  • 1920's as a setting (jazz, speakeasies, flappers)
  • Something that involves arena combat (though I would like to explore a less-bloody version of it, whether it be a type of virtual game or a point-system fight) I may have a plot and intro post(s) for this
  • A plot in which our two characters travel not only through time, but through dimensions and realities against their will. They could show up in any "world," interact with any characters, etc. (I have more information on this.)


In regards to your genre ideas, I am fine with the list printed above. Since I spent 21 years in the US Army and MA Army National Guard as an Infantry Officer and I have been reading books and articles on the subject of military history for over 40 years, I tend to enjoy writing in the military genre, past, present and future. Science Fiction is a topic very near and dear to me; it is the genre of the novel I wrote last month. You can read about the background information on my novel under the Galileo Corporation link in my signature.

But I have diverse tastes including martial arts training. I currently hold a red belt in Krav Maga, an Israeli Self Defense technique. It is a hybrid form of martial arts drawn from Muay Thai, Taekwondo and Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. If all goes well, I should test for Black Belt in the spring of 2017. Therefore, if you would like to explore the arena, I can draw from quite an array of real world experiences in that realm; both armed and unarmed combat.

There are quite a few snipets of my writing styles on this site already. You can explore those if you wish. Like yourself, I am not interested in gruesome horror, vampires or werewolves. You can add Angels and Demons to that list, but I have been known to bend that rule for a friend. The following is an excerpt from my unpublished novel, The Galileo Corporation; Lucky Rollers:

13 April 2317
GCS Galileo

Gunther Stikes wanted a back brief on the prison camp raid as soon as possible. He ordered the Andresen's Lucky Rollers to meet him on the Galileo. When he discovered they were travelling on a commandeered ship, he became curious. "What ship are they on?" The Chief Executive Officer of Galileo Corporation demanded.

"It is called the Ghost in the Abyss out of Tirana, Albania. The Captain is a nefarious gentleman named Miloš Dragomanovic, sir," Captain Antonio Fernandes addressed the retired general.

"What do we know about him?"

"He's scum. He will do anything for money and he will work for anyone including the Fydler or the Pirates. I'm sure that was why he was allowed on the surface of Valencia. He is no better than any of them," Captain Fernandes had already formed an opinion of the Albanian Scout Captain.

"Why is Captain Dragomanovic helping Captain Andresen again?"

"Captain Andresen put a gun to his head and threatened to kill him if he didn't do exactly what he asked," the Galileo ship's Captain responded.

"I see," Gunther pondered the situation. "I like this Andresen fellow and I would like to speak with Mr. Dragomanovic."

"Aye, sir. We gave the Ghost permission to come aboard the Galileo."

"Inform Johnny Stout, he will need to back brief the Lucky Rollers," Gunther told the ship's Captain.

"Aye, aye, sir."

Three hours later...
The former crewmembers of the UCN Athens were escorted to the medical bay aboard the Galileo. The Special Operations Team were escorted to Lieutenant Colonel Johnny Stout's briefing room in the lower decks. Miloš Dragomanovic and Alexander Johnson were escorted to the executive briefing room reserved for the ship's captain and the CEO. A buffet of food had been laid out for the Albanian gentleman and the African American.

Gunther Stikes walked into the room with a younger bespectacled man carrying a tablet. As General Stikes approached the two, the younger man took a seat on the side of the room and placed the tablet on his lap, prepared to type.

"Mr. Dragomanovic?" Gunther extended a hand to shake, which was reluctantly received. Dragon held a suspicious look on his face. Then Gunther turned to the thinner African American gentleman, "and your name?"

"Johnson. Alexander Johnson, sir," the second man responded with a cautious smile.

"I am Gunther Stikes, Chief Executive Officer for the Galileo Corporation," Gunther turned to take a seat at the end of the table. "Please help yourselves to some food. I would like to ask you some questions."

As Dragon and Alexander acquired food, Gunther began to ask questions about the two. "I noticed you have a later version of the UCN Scout Ship. It has all the upgrades, bells and whistles. How did you come by it?"

Dragon was always one to keep his cards close to his vest, "I purchased it straight from the factory."

The younger man sitting at the back of the room had already acquired the ship's registration and serial numbers. He researched the UCN database and found out the ship had been lost to pirates a few years earlier. He looked up at General Stikes, shaking his head no, slowly with a grimace on his lips.

"Is that so?" Gunther asked. He knew Dragon was lying to him, so took a different turn. "I do wish to thank you for rescuing my people and the navy hostages from that pirate world. The Union of Confederated Nations and the Galileo Corporation are both indebted to you."

"Think nothing of it, sir," Dragon relaxed slightly.

"No, I respect your desire to help out a stranger in need. That is a very noble quality to possess."

Alexander was about to speak, "Uh!" Dragon kicked him in the leg under the table.

"No, please let the man speak, Mr. Dragomanovic. I want to hear what he has to say."

"Sir, one of our ship mates is being held hostage on the Fydler moon, Larien," Alexander blurted out.

"And why in God's name would he be there?" Gunther attempted to feign surprise.

"The FNS took him hostage after giving me and Dragon a mission," Alexander was obviously frightened by the CEO of Galileo. Meanwhile, Dragon was squirming uncomfortably in his chair. He no longer had the appetite for the barbecue chicken wings on his plate.

"What was this mission?" Gunther asked the question.

Alexander looked at Dragon. If looks could kill, the mortuary affairs people would be sizing up Mr. Johnson already. Dragon gave a weak sarcastic smile and hand gesture that said, 'go ahead and tell him, you big fat idiot.'

"Mr. Angrod Gorodsig Felagrund of the Fydler Nrockzich Stnapod identified three Fydler mercenaries who were on Valencia. He wanted us to assassinate them. We flew to the pirate home world. We arrived about the same time the pirates did. They looked like they had just been in a fight. They were dragging several badly damaged ships including a UCN Battle Cruiser. It appeared to be an Anti Air Warfare ship. I've seen the Anti-Ship and Anti-Surface warfare versions. This one had more of the lighter weapons for close in defense and not enough of the larger guns." Alexander sipped his beverage and continued. "Since we arrived the same time as them, they didn't notice we weren't already with them. So, Dragon and I went to the surface. We found a taproom. I drank wine, while Dragon drank whiskey."

"Don't forget about that cute little lass who served us," Dragon muttered sarcastically.

"Yea, what Dragon said. She was a hot little momma," Alexander used his hands in a wavy pattern to accentuate the young woman's curves. Gunther allowed a slight smile, but remained silent. His clerk at the back of the room was busy clicking away at his keyboard, writing everything down.

"We had a hard time getting anyone to talk to us. Finally, on the fifth day, we saw one of the Fydler we were looking for. He and his comrades had been aboard one of the pirate ships. We saw him receive instructions from a smaller white human. So, we followed the human. We got him drunk later that night and made friends with him. He told us about how they captured the cruiser. Also, how they captured a dozen prisoners and placed them in a camp at the south end of Montrose Island. The tall grey fellow we was looking for, along with several other people including the other two Fydlers on our hit list were to take the prisoners to this camp and watch them." Alexander sampled some more of the food. He was starting to relax.

"Dragon and I went back to the Ghost, lifted up and found the camp. It was well guarded and we really didn't know how to complete our mission. So we landed in this grassy field about two kilometers away. We sat there for a few days watching the camp. We noticed a truck or two, maybe three or four would drive through the field we were in, up a road, up the hill into that camp. The Fydlers we were looking for, never came down in one of those trucks. They were always humans. We watched them for days and Dragon and I did nothing. We didn't know what to do."

"Yesterday morning, we heard the trucks, but it was early in the morning. The red sun was just coming up. I had just gotten out of bed. I heard an explosion, which caused me to bolt. You know, it was startling. It sounded like it was right outside our ship. Apparently it was. One of your cutters was sitting a few hundred meters away. Someone blasted it. So, your soldiers came aboard the Ghost and shoved guns in our faces, demanding us to take them off the planet. We really couldn't do much at that point, but do what your guy asked us to do. The next thing I know, Dragon is landing the Ghost aboard this big battle wagon you got here."

"You're a right git; bloody blabber mouth," Dragon muttered to Alexander.

"So what about your friend on Larien?" Gunther asked, employing a French accent on the name of the moon.

"Right, Lamar Hudson. He grew up in Albany, New York."

"Wonderful, is he dead or alive?" Gunther asked, brushing past the irrelevant information.

Alexander looked up at the older professional soldier, "I sure hope he is alive. We have four weeks to complete this mission, but that was almost two weeks ago. We still have 15 days left to get him back, or they kill him."

"Mr. Dragomanovic?" Gunther addressed the larger, older fat man. "Or may I call you Dragon?"

"Da, Dragon is my nick name," Dragon spoke into the table.

"In appreciation for the help you gave my company today, I considered offering you a position or at least an assignment here with Galileo Corporation."

Dragon looked up at Gunther with a shocked look on his face. Both Alexander and the younger clerk typist mirrored Dragon's expression. Everyone was surprised by Gunther's admission. "But, I value honesty as well as tenacity and some of your other more valuable skills. Could you be honest with me, Dragon?"

Dragon shook his head up and down slowly.

"Great, now we are getting somewhere," Gunther continued. "Tell me where you acquired the ship."

Dragon swallowed hard then took a sip of water. "Do you happen to have any rum?"

_________________
I am playing no game. I am writing a story that maybe a few of you will enjoy.
I am in Eastern Standard Time zone (GMT -5)
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My Characters
My Writing Styles
Galileo Corporation
Modern Wargaming Rules
Bakushima; Fantasy Feudal Japan

Best Days for RPing
Fri - Sun

Attitude | +
"The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude to me is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than success, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, gift, or skill. It will make or break a company...a church...a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past...we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10 percent what happens to me and 90 percent how I react to it. And so it is with you... we are in charge of our attitudes. "
~ Charles Swindoll


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