I will strive to maintain brevity, I am a pilgrim seeking a long-term partner to engage with a character of mine. We can play either in my setting, yours, or one we build together. I will leave a writing sample of my style from a post made via Discord, no, I don't care about your length as I am not an elitist. I only ask you to read and strive to have fun with the narrative we will conjure. My OC's range from 2002-2016 for creation, their bios are not needed to be read, but you can peruse them if you so fancy. Below will be as follows
Rules
Writing sample
Character sheets (Upon request)
Lore (Upon request)
Lore Pages offered only on request VIA DM for the setting. I am doing this, because it is tied to my discord community, and I wish to elude the perception of spam. And so will only be offered if necessitated.
The No's
1) Metagaming
2) Godmodding
3) Forcing scenes for solely licentious intentions. Fine if it organically blossoms.
4) Ignoring my post
5) Ghosting
6) Anything, not an OC. Sorry, I don't want to do a fandom RP as that is not my cup of tea.
What can I expect?
My undivided attention.
A carefully constructed narrative propelled by our actions and inactions, where one does not overshadow the other unless wanted.
Profound insights into our characters (At least mine) philosophies.
Possible romance if it is earned.
Alien worlds, logical systems, melding fantasy with believability.
Potential Violence
Potential Horror
Possible metaphysical concepts surpassing the domain of intellectualism.
Rules
Writing sample
Character sheets (Upon request)
Lore (Upon request)
Lore Pages offered only on request VIA DM for the setting. I am doing this, because it is tied to my discord community, and I wish to elude the perception of spam. And so will only be offered if necessitated.
The No's
1) Metagaming
2) Godmodding
3) Forcing scenes for solely licentious intentions. Fine if it organically blossoms.
4) Ignoring my post
5) Ghosting
6) Anything, not an OC. Sorry, I don't want to do a fandom RP as that is not my cup of tea.
What can I expect?
My undivided attention.
A carefully constructed narrative propelled by our actions and inactions, where one does not overshadow the other unless wanted.
Profound insights into our characters (At least mine) philosophies.
Possible romance if it is earned.
Alien worlds, logical systems, melding fantasy with believability.
Potential Violence
Potential Horror
Possible metaphysical concepts surpassing the domain of intellectualism.
The courtyard persisted as a vibrant exhibition of symbolism that from even the harshest pockets of our world, life finds a way. Those diverse hues of flowers, the myriad of scents, sending goosebumps across blemishless pearly colored skin. As amber jewels bounded between the two, being blessed by the presence of a mild breeze. Those binary suns overhead, crisp sapphire skies, and fluffy white patches were furthering the repletion illusion. Those nimble digits, tugging on the red dress, conforming it to that lithe hourglass figure, while titillatingly endeavoring to lure Osiris hungering gaze. As muscular legs overlapped, pushing free from the ruby garb of eloquence, bequeathing little room for contemplation regarding the Chieftan's licentious aims. Admittedly, it was directed toward both of them unequivocally and rather daringly.
Those circumstances environing Osiris's molding were quite published to the Queen; she had a vested interest in trailing his campaign, given his royal rearing. Most might be left to linger in taciturnity, contemplating why jeopardize such an indispensable asset if a premature demise imperiled stability? The revelation toward such droll inquisitions should be self-evident; the Matron counted Amun as a potential liability, a stepping stone toward something tremendously entrenched. If her experiment failed, if the vassal substantiated itself as a despicable investment, she'd swivel and use his children as a means to thwart legislative fallout. Despite her youthful glow, this shapely vixen was anything but stolid, the magnitude of her acumen having yet to materialize, giving the most scarce of breadcrumbs to service as faint glimmers. Valerna hadn't fulfilled her achievements out of sheer flukes; no, the Chieftan surmised that one needed a few alternate avenues if designs should unwind. The absurdity of her struggles, acknowledging that life seldom goes the way people envisage it should progress.
That emerald edifice of beef supping away, the cup, in contrast, seeming vastly diminutive. This most auspicious spectacle graced her brown eyes, as the tattoed cephalopod seemed ludicrously out of place in their current environment. That preamble, the prelude to the anecdote to come, instituted itself as being steered toward Almalexia. The spider was sitting on her web, relishing the fine heated beverage, as the judicial cognizance rummaged through each syllable. The summary proved...lacking in descriptions, although Osiris did unveil he had a journal. A snooping soul might find themselves inclined to scour through those pages, excavate some embarrassing secret, or scatter light on that tendril man's authentic reflections. Would Valerna stoop to such lows? No, not now, such immature antics might be devised if some good fellowship encouraged such...unsuited behavior?
The effort, while commendable, doubtfully would quell his siblings' ravening anxieties for edification. The data provided could only lead to more queries, an all too commonplace spiraling plunge into derangement, as much like her mother, the Lilac flower seemed resolved to penetrate this stratum of permanence elusive secrets. Almalexia's eyes kindled since parturition, their impetuous radiance displaying an innate covetous need to exhume vicariously through the wills of her lessers. Those palatable lips were curling, once more decorating a jubilant expression, as a melodious chortle crawled free from bodacious rims. Valerna, reclining back into the seat, as claws combed through that Auburn mane, its rose hue reflecting the ambient light around them ever so wondrously. Those immaculately tidied brows, elevating, as a genuine sensation of perplexity caused the heart to drum against ribs. Well played, exchange some information, offer a gift, that being the tea, then press the Matron for some stories of her past.
"I see, you've bestowed us with quite the retelling, I reckon, it is only appropriate I return the favor."
The Giantess was leaning forward, those hands reposing regal-like on the knees, as the hosted lady prepared her memoir. That hedonistic oral muscles, tracing across velvety lips as if preparing for quite the novella.
"Long ago, before even I was aware of your world. The jungle knew a period of ambivalence, where foreign invaders, from a far-flung land, had plunged their dagger deep into our primordial heart. A cloud of somberness, looming overhead, as even the sun's rays seemed to provide no warmth. The ringing of steel, the sparks from war, strife had filled the overgrowth. The luxuriant vegetation withered, without the heated kiss from our celestial twins, as the land forever became marred. Mothers, not able to secure food, smothered their babes within their bosoms, while the elders lamented, digging their children's mass graves. The soil saturated in blood, as the river was tainted by the contagions gifted by decomposing carcasses bobbing on the surface. Monsters prowled under the umbra, while those liberated from the heartless shade could only wait for eventide when the beast would come for them next. Death was routine, as those that trampled on our most sacred traditions had roused an enormity beyond formability. The blackened screen expanded, bit by bit, while those stuck within were forever altered. Delirium, mutations, manifestations of the same disease, spread not by a spell or spirits but by the most odious aspect of our corrupt nature, envy. Brother turned against brother, nibbling on their corpses, as their kin's flesh was all that remained to procure sustenance. But the night wouldn't last; eventually, the sun did burst free from that veil, as those that had somehow managed to prevail wished they hadn't. Tell me, Osiris is this the sort of tale you want to hear? I am reserved; I don't express what I've endured so liberally. Whether or not there is truth in this recounting of events, I leave that up to you both to determine."
The cup raised, taking a final sip, finishing the liquid as those eyelids sealed, covering those mirrors from the world. Valerna wasn't irate; no, this was a test, though its true intentions would feasibly remain muddled. The conch scrutinizing over a window sill, looking down at the Matron, ensuring his shell refracted the daylight, analyzed their interaction. Zelena had strived to restrain them from Mirage's world until the guardian was convinced her children were ready. Regrettably, the elder of knowledge had other plans. Dispersing the command for the Crustacean named "Sloth" to wait, document, until such a time as the arrogant Queen and her grandchildren were alone and ready. For you see, Valerna wasn't the only spider, nor the largest fish in the ocean...
Her ambitions had merited attention, as something was off about this mortal, conjuring forth distant echos within the Eldritch entity's suppressed memories. Soon, her curiosity will be satisfied, and those children will come face to face with the reality of their conception.
"Almalexia, you have been mute thus far; I hope our stories haven't soured the mood. Do you know what I esteem above the leaves during our time engaging in this ritual? Your company, that mind, and the passion often expressed through those eyes. You aren't one to remain silent for this long, humor me, what is it thats racing through that labyinth of a mind of yours?"
The chieftain, recessing the awkward silence, as she tried to alter the current to a more pleasant flow.
Those circumstances environing Osiris's molding were quite published to the Queen; she had a vested interest in trailing his campaign, given his royal rearing. Most might be left to linger in taciturnity, contemplating why jeopardize such an indispensable asset if a premature demise imperiled stability? The revelation toward such droll inquisitions should be self-evident; the Matron counted Amun as a potential liability, a stepping stone toward something tremendously entrenched. If her experiment failed, if the vassal substantiated itself as a despicable investment, she'd swivel and use his children as a means to thwart legislative fallout. Despite her youthful glow, this shapely vixen was anything but stolid, the magnitude of her acumen having yet to materialize, giving the most scarce of breadcrumbs to service as faint glimmers. Valerna hadn't fulfilled her achievements out of sheer flukes; no, the Chieftan surmised that one needed a few alternate avenues if designs should unwind. The absurdity of her struggles, acknowledging that life seldom goes the way people envisage it should progress.
That emerald edifice of beef supping away, the cup, in contrast, seeming vastly diminutive. This most auspicious spectacle graced her brown eyes, as the tattoed cephalopod seemed ludicrously out of place in their current environment. That preamble, the prelude to the anecdote to come, instituted itself as being steered toward Almalexia. The spider was sitting on her web, relishing the fine heated beverage, as the judicial cognizance rummaged through each syllable. The summary proved...lacking in descriptions, although Osiris did unveil he had a journal. A snooping soul might find themselves inclined to scour through those pages, excavate some embarrassing secret, or scatter light on that tendril man's authentic reflections. Would Valerna stoop to such lows? No, not now, such immature antics might be devised if some good fellowship encouraged such...unsuited behavior?
The effort, while commendable, doubtfully would quell his siblings' ravening anxieties for edification. The data provided could only lead to more queries, an all too commonplace spiraling plunge into derangement, as much like her mother, the Lilac flower seemed resolved to penetrate this stratum of permanence elusive secrets. Almalexia's eyes kindled since parturition, their impetuous radiance displaying an innate covetous need to exhume vicariously through the wills of her lessers. Those palatable lips were curling, once more decorating a jubilant expression, as a melodious chortle crawled free from bodacious rims. Valerna, reclining back into the seat, as claws combed through that Auburn mane, its rose hue reflecting the ambient light around them ever so wondrously. Those immaculately tidied brows, elevating, as a genuine sensation of perplexity caused the heart to drum against ribs. Well played, exchange some information, offer a gift, that being the tea, then press the Matron for some stories of her past.
"I see, you've bestowed us with quite the retelling, I reckon, it is only appropriate I return the favor."
The Giantess was leaning forward, those hands reposing regal-like on the knees, as the hosted lady prepared her memoir. That hedonistic oral muscles, tracing across velvety lips as if preparing for quite the novella.
"Long ago, before even I was aware of your world. The jungle knew a period of ambivalence, where foreign invaders, from a far-flung land, had plunged their dagger deep into our primordial heart. A cloud of somberness, looming overhead, as even the sun's rays seemed to provide no warmth. The ringing of steel, the sparks from war, strife had filled the overgrowth. The luxuriant vegetation withered, without the heated kiss from our celestial twins, as the land forever became marred. Mothers, not able to secure food, smothered their babes within their bosoms, while the elders lamented, digging their children's mass graves. The soil saturated in blood, as the river was tainted by the contagions gifted by decomposing carcasses bobbing on the surface. Monsters prowled under the umbra, while those liberated from the heartless shade could only wait for eventide when the beast would come for them next. Death was routine, as those that trampled on our most sacred traditions had roused an enormity beyond formability. The blackened screen expanded, bit by bit, while those stuck within were forever altered. Delirium, mutations, manifestations of the same disease, spread not by a spell or spirits but by the most odious aspect of our corrupt nature, envy. Brother turned against brother, nibbling on their corpses, as their kin's flesh was all that remained to procure sustenance. But the night wouldn't last; eventually, the sun did burst free from that veil, as those that had somehow managed to prevail wished they hadn't. Tell me, Osiris is this the sort of tale you want to hear? I am reserved; I don't express what I've endured so liberally. Whether or not there is truth in this recounting of events, I leave that up to you both to determine."
The cup raised, taking a final sip, finishing the liquid as those eyelids sealed, covering those mirrors from the world. Valerna wasn't irate; no, this was a test, though its true intentions would feasibly remain muddled. The conch scrutinizing over a window sill, looking down at the Matron, ensuring his shell refracted the daylight, analyzed their interaction. Zelena had strived to restrain them from Mirage's world until the guardian was convinced her children were ready. Regrettably, the elder of knowledge had other plans. Dispersing the command for the Crustacean named "Sloth" to wait, document, until such a time as the arrogant Queen and her grandchildren were alone and ready. For you see, Valerna wasn't the only spider, nor the largest fish in the ocean...
Her ambitions had merited attention, as something was off about this mortal, conjuring forth distant echos within the Eldritch entity's suppressed memories. Soon, her curiosity will be satisfied, and those children will come face to face with the reality of their conception.
"Almalexia, you have been mute thus far; I hope our stories haven't soured the mood. Do you know what I esteem above the leaves during our time engaging in this ritual? Your company, that mind, and the passion often expressed through those eyes. You aren't one to remain silent for this long, humor me, what is it thats racing through that labyinth of a mind of yours?"
The chieftain, recessing the awkward silence, as she tried to alter the current to a more pleasant flow.
The senseless mortal so freely sauntered into her domain, the verdant overgrowth and those denizens inside were subject to her fastidious whims. The webbings were ornamenting those towering trees that, like fingers sprawled to the heavens, serving as a network. The spiderlings, plucking on strands, striking a chord of communication from the matron who resided on a skeletal throne. As she roamed, the prey would flounder beyond the thicket, those tarnished eyes bearing witness to the pyramids of bones and the bustling heart of the primordial jungle. This stranger within a strange land surrounded, her intrusion seen as suspect, as the soldiers escorted the dark-skinned rose into the court. Valerna, remaining perched, those muscular legs overlapping one another, so they slid free from the dress layered on top of the scanty carapace. Her figure voluptuous, licentiously portrayed, as hedonistic tongue traced the succulent rims of the oral barricades. The pearly tinted canvas, embellished by black and crimson tipped chitin, as a purr divorced itself from illustrious lips. That oral muscle clicking, as the eight arachnoid feelers stretched out, slipping into view. Razor-sharp talons wiggling about, as threads of silk were yanked by those nimble digits. Those fathomless pools of amber, haughtily scrutinizing downward at the ostensibly reprehensible vagrant. Whatever opulence she had marshaled seemed like child's play to the one behind shaping that intricate web across two empires.
"Pardon my guards; they are nothing if not ardent and overprotective of their queen. Tell me, outlander, what brings you to our fair city? The bastion of the old and new world, an amalgamation of cultures tucked from nefarious wills?"
Those curves brazenly advertised, skin devoid of blemish, as her very utterances exhumed a sense of regal Dominance. Faint glimmers behind the intelligence and its erudition that prowled behind bodaciously revealed flesh...and the umbra that is ambiguity.
"Pardon my guards; they are nothing if not ardent and overprotective of their queen. Tell me, outlander, what brings you to our fair city? The bastion of the old and new world, an amalgamation of cultures tucked from nefarious wills?"
Those curves brazenly advertised, skin devoid of blemish, as her very utterances exhumed a sense of regal Dominance. Faint glimmers behind the intelligence and its erudition that prowled behind bodaciously revealed flesh...and the umbra that is ambiguity.
