Faraine
Bloop
Fine, I'll make a freaking thread.
Hi, I'm Natalie. I'm 32 years old and introverted. In short, I’m a writing addict and currently bored because my longtime RP partner is busy irl (the jerk) so here I am.
In not-so-short…
A bit about me:
Yes, writing is life, but my two children and husband take precedence. I'll only be able to respond once maybe twice a day, but when you get a response it will be worthwhile. My introductions tend to be about 2 Word pages, single-spaced, and then my replies will be between 1-2 pages if I'm truly inspired (I don’t expect this of you, I just get carried away). I write in third person past-tense, and I would love it if your style was similar.
Anyways, here's some stuff you may want to know...
Fantasy - emphasis here. I don't care if it's modern, medieval, futuristic or high fantasy, but I write to escape real life. That being said, if you have a stellar real life plot that you think you could convince me to do, I’m open to hearing about it. I do actually have a real life plot going on right now that has been interesting and fun, so it's not a "hecks no", it's more of a "try me".
Fandom...? I don't have much experience with it, but I'm down. Only OCs, though. Something like Harry Potter would be interesting or even an extremely mature Pokemon role play. I've always wanted to give that a try.
Adventure. Let's travel somewhere and be chased by something.
Action. Give me gore and guts, give me battle wounds and trauma and hairy close-calls.
Romance is an absolute must. I love love love romance… I'm a hopeless romantic. (Did I mention I liked romance?) Sidenote: there has to be an ongoing plot and normally I like slowburn, although I've enjoyed the occasional immediate romances. Sometimes characters just... get along so well, there's nothing we can do. However, as an example of my usual style, I've been roleplaying the same story with someone for ten years and our characters kissed romantically for the first time after five (irl) years. (With a LOT of tension in between).
Here are some cravings:
Please understand these are meant to guide, and I’m not limited to just these. If you have a cool idea and think we’d jive well, lemme see!
Writing sample:
Next step:
DM me if you're interested. Include your favorite kind of candy if you read everything… or don’t. I don’t really care, I just pretend to. lol
Er, yeah, I don't know how to end this. Hope to hear from you soon?
Hi, I'm Natalie. I'm 32 years old and introverted. In short, I’m a writing addict and currently bored because my longtime RP partner is busy irl (the jerk) so here I am.
In not-so-short…
A bit about me:
Yes, writing is life, but my two children and husband take precedence. I'll only be able to respond once maybe twice a day, but when you get a response it will be worthwhile. My introductions tend to be about 2 Word pages, single-spaced, and then my replies will be between 1-2 pages if I'm truly inspired (I don’t expect this of you, I just get carried away). I write in third person past-tense, and I would love it if your style was similar.
Anyways, here's some stuff you may want to know...
No limits or triggers. Tell me if you have any, and I'll respect them. I love violence, swearing, romance, dark agonizing pasts, but please make it so your main character is redeemable. If he/she is a total ass and never changes, that can get old quick. That being said, the change can be very gradual.
MxF or FxF for our main characters. Side characters can be any orientation/pairing.
Please be 18+, for the usual reasons.
I can play male or female, but lately I've been vibing with my female characters.
My favorite role plays are when both characters are strong, combative personalities that hate each other at first. I love that dynamic, but I can work with anything!
Please try to be committed! I will try and do the same, although I’ve been guilty of disappearing in the past… so apologies for being a hypocrite. If something comes up or you no longer want to continue, let me know.
Craft a plot with me. Don't let me do it on my own... because I will. And don't get me wrong, I'll love it, but I don't want to leave you in the dust. Contribute, please, and let me know if any of my ideas won't mesh well with you. Honesty = gucci.
Give me a character with character, please. Give me a past. Give me likes and dislikes. Give me personality. And established relationships (a family, a friend, a love interest). I don't want to role play with a drone… unless that's who your character is, of course.
What I like:Fantasy - emphasis here. I don't care if it's modern, medieval, futuristic or high fantasy, but I write to escape real life. That being said, if you have a stellar real life plot that you think you could convince me to do, I’m open to hearing about it. I do actually have a real life plot going on right now that has been interesting and fun, so it's not a "hecks no", it's more of a "try me".
Fandom...? I don't have much experience with it, but I'm down. Only OCs, though. Something like Harry Potter would be interesting or even an extremely mature Pokemon role play. I've always wanted to give that a try.
Adventure. Let's travel somewhere and be chased by something.
Action. Give me gore and guts, give me battle wounds and trauma and hairy close-calls.
Romance is an absolute must. I love love love romance… I'm a hopeless romantic. (Did I mention I liked romance?) Sidenote: there has to be an ongoing plot and normally I like slowburn, although I've enjoyed the occasional immediate romances. Sometimes characters just... get along so well, there's nothing we can do. However, as an example of my usual style, I've been roleplaying the same story with someone for ten years and our characters kissed romantically for the first time after five (irl) years. (With a LOT of tension in between).
Here are some cravings:
Please understand these are meant to guide, and I’m not limited to just these. If you have a cool idea and think we’d jive well, lemme see!
* = I have a plot or idea that we could use
- Vampire (modern or futuristic) *
- Pokémon (OCs/alternate reality) *
- Apocalypse/Post-Apocalypse
- Harry Potter (OCs only)
- X-Men (OCs only)
- Pirates?! (never done this but it sounds like chaotic fun)
- Spirited Away (OCs)
- ATLA (OCs)
Writing sample:
One might say Ryland Brett was addicted to words. Ryland, himself, would certainly attest to the fact, and although his passion was once a touchy subject, now that he was in and amongst like-minded people he wore the personality trait like a badge of honor.
Not a literal badge, of course. It wouldn’t be uniform compliant.
Today, he wore the usual gowns befitted to a Ravenclaw: coal robes with gold and cobalt accentuations. His coffee hair was perfectly styled into imperfection to imply disinterest, as if he’d simply rolled out of bed, but the facial hair he’d sprouted that summer was, for once, manicured into a chinstrap-style that accentuated his sharp jaw.
Ryland couldn’t wait for the simplicity of magic and charms. He pulled on one of his shirt cuffs before rubbing the stubble on his chin and diving back into his book.
“Arithmancy, Brett?”
With the Hogwarts Express chugging along beneath him, Ryland slid curious grey eyes to the chatterbox at his door. It was his friend Dunstan - a fourth year Gryffindor. True to his name, the man was an absolute dunce. Ryland offered a hint of a smile which shrouded his rude opinion with cordiality.
“Getting a head start on this year’s reading,” Ryland‘s gaze fell back to the page.
Dunstan flopped onto the bench across from him which sent a burst of air to ruffle Ryland’s pages, much to the latter’s bemusement. “Nerds. The whole lot of you Ravenclaws. Nerds and weirdos.”
“Please. Don’t get me started,” Ryland deadpanned, bounced his brows and amended, “or do. You know how this ends.”
“How exactly does it end?” Dunstan raised a blonde plucked eyebrow.
Internally mourning the solitude, Ryland flicked shut his book and put an ankle to his knee. “It ends in you begging on your knees for help on a Transfiguration essay the night before it’s due. And it ends with you buying all sorts of goodies throughout the year as compensation for my nerdy and weird services.”
Dunstan spun blue eyes. “That was last year. This year will be different.”
“Have you sworn off all beautiful women and brain-fogging enchantments?” Ryland found the ceiling and pushed out his lips, using his lithe fingers to count them out. “First, there was Allison, then Gray Billingstorm, then Ms. Grimmel, and if we’re counting that one-week fling, we also have - ”
“As I said before,” Dunstan made an admirable attempt at an intimating glare, “that was last year.”
“Dating a studious one this year, are you?”
“A fifth year,” A goofyass smile blooming onto Dunstan’s lips. “Hufflepuff. And if I do say so myself, she is one bloody fine piece of work.”
“No way?” Ryland leaned elbows into his knees. Feigned interest brightened his overcast eyes. “Tell me more about this electrifying personality of hers.”
Dunstan tugged on a strand of longish blonde, thinking. “Well… Personality… Uh…”
Ryland deadpanned again. “Nice ass?”
“The breasts, my friend.” Dunstan smirked the definition of male confidence.
“Ah,” Ryland tsked and leaned back. “Well, I suppose that’s… important.”
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Ryland leafed through his pages longingly, “but your past endeavors have only been mildly impressive.”
“Say no more.”
~
The conversation was to blame for his current predicament.
An Addict was, by nature, shackled to the thing which drove the addiction. For Ryland, it was books. He wanted nothing else in the world but words to fill and distract his mind, so much so that he often forgot to eat or shower or socialize or sleep.
So it wasn’t an easy thing, dragging his uninterested ass down the thin corridor between compartments. But for his friends, he was willing to make the occasional sacrifice.
Dunstan led them to a stall further up. The blonde rolled his knuckles across the glass door once before sliding it open. He then crashed into the seat next to one of the chittering Hufflepuff girls and slung an arm across the bigger-busted one’s shoulders.
His lips crooned a greeting. “Ladies, ladies, please, my ears are burning,” Dunstan tossed Ryland a cocky look, of which Ryland returned with an endearing head shake. Ryland leaned against the compartment’s door while Dunstan continued. “It’s bad manners to gossip.”
Ryland pushed out a sigh. “If there was a sheet of paper listing your worst attributes, bad manners would soon follow your name and age.”
“You’re not exactly a saint either, Brett,” Dunstan’s mouth slanted. “We all remember the Monica Mulberry incident.”
Ryland narrowed his eyes. Monica Mulberry. Anxious and shivering like a little field mouse. Their first year, he’d simply called the Gryffindor out for cheating, for writing her name on a Potions project that wasn’t hers, and the little felon had run from the Great Hall sobbing.
To say she hadn’t been the same since would be an understatement.
Ryland ignored the throb in his chest and shifted his attention to the other side of the compartment. There was someone else sitting there; a girl with undulating nutmeg hair tied back. He recognized her as a Slytherin, though he hadn’t ever spoken to her. There had been no reason nor draw to do so, but the conversation on the other side of the compartment was progressing without him and he knew from research that in order to avoid an awkward situation, one must find common ground.
He stepped into the small room and invited himself into the open area next to her, removing his wand from his pocket. It was Acacia wood, 11”, specifically tailored as a gift to his Pureblood family by the famed Ollivander. He was proud of it and the fact was noted when he flourished and flicked it purposefully in the air.
“That spell,” he started, jerking his chin at the Slytherin’s book, “requires a more intent approach. Think more of a sword-fight rather than a dance.”
Not a literal badge, of course. It wouldn’t be uniform compliant.
Today, he wore the usual gowns befitted to a Ravenclaw: coal robes with gold and cobalt accentuations. His coffee hair was perfectly styled into imperfection to imply disinterest, as if he’d simply rolled out of bed, but the facial hair he’d sprouted that summer was, for once, manicured into a chinstrap-style that accentuated his sharp jaw.
Ryland couldn’t wait for the simplicity of magic and charms. He pulled on one of his shirt cuffs before rubbing the stubble on his chin and diving back into his book.
“Arithmancy, Brett?”
With the Hogwarts Express chugging along beneath him, Ryland slid curious grey eyes to the chatterbox at his door. It was his friend Dunstan - a fourth year Gryffindor. True to his name, the man was an absolute dunce. Ryland offered a hint of a smile which shrouded his rude opinion with cordiality.
“Getting a head start on this year’s reading,” Ryland‘s gaze fell back to the page.
Dunstan flopped onto the bench across from him which sent a burst of air to ruffle Ryland’s pages, much to the latter’s bemusement. “Nerds. The whole lot of you Ravenclaws. Nerds and weirdos.”
“Please. Don’t get me started,” Ryland deadpanned, bounced his brows and amended, “or do. You know how this ends.”
“How exactly does it end?” Dunstan raised a blonde plucked eyebrow.
Internally mourning the solitude, Ryland flicked shut his book and put an ankle to his knee. “It ends in you begging on your knees for help on a Transfiguration essay the night before it’s due. And it ends with you buying all sorts of goodies throughout the year as compensation for my nerdy and weird services.”
Dunstan spun blue eyes. “That was last year. This year will be different.”
“Have you sworn off all beautiful women and brain-fogging enchantments?” Ryland found the ceiling and pushed out his lips, using his lithe fingers to count them out. “First, there was Allison, then Gray Billingstorm, then Ms. Grimmel, and if we’re counting that one-week fling, we also have - ”
“As I said before,” Dunstan made an admirable attempt at an intimating glare, “that was last year.”
“Dating a studious one this year, are you?”
“A fifth year,” A goofyass smile blooming onto Dunstan’s lips. “Hufflepuff. And if I do say so myself, she is one bloody fine piece of work.”
“No way?” Ryland leaned elbows into his knees. Feigned interest brightened his overcast eyes. “Tell me more about this electrifying personality of hers.”
Dunstan tugged on a strand of longish blonde, thinking. “Well… Personality… Uh…”
Ryland deadpanned again. “Nice ass?”
“The breasts, my friend.” Dunstan smirked the definition of male confidence.
“Ah,” Ryland tsked and leaned back. “Well, I suppose that’s… important.”
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Ryland leafed through his pages longingly, “but your past endeavors have only been mildly impressive.”
“Say no more.”
~
The conversation was to blame for his current predicament.
An Addict was, by nature, shackled to the thing which drove the addiction. For Ryland, it was books. He wanted nothing else in the world but words to fill and distract his mind, so much so that he often forgot to eat or shower or socialize or sleep.
So it wasn’t an easy thing, dragging his uninterested ass down the thin corridor between compartments. But for his friends, he was willing to make the occasional sacrifice.
Dunstan led them to a stall further up. The blonde rolled his knuckles across the glass door once before sliding it open. He then crashed into the seat next to one of the chittering Hufflepuff girls and slung an arm across the bigger-busted one’s shoulders.
His lips crooned a greeting. “Ladies, ladies, please, my ears are burning,” Dunstan tossed Ryland a cocky look, of which Ryland returned with an endearing head shake. Ryland leaned against the compartment’s door while Dunstan continued. “It’s bad manners to gossip.”
Ryland pushed out a sigh. “If there was a sheet of paper listing your worst attributes, bad manners would soon follow your name and age.”
“You’re not exactly a saint either, Brett,” Dunstan’s mouth slanted. “We all remember the Monica Mulberry incident.”
Ryland narrowed his eyes. Monica Mulberry. Anxious and shivering like a little field mouse. Their first year, he’d simply called the Gryffindor out for cheating, for writing her name on a Potions project that wasn’t hers, and the little felon had run from the Great Hall sobbing.
To say she hadn’t been the same since would be an understatement.
Ryland ignored the throb in his chest and shifted his attention to the other side of the compartment. There was someone else sitting there; a girl with undulating nutmeg hair tied back. He recognized her as a Slytherin, though he hadn’t ever spoken to her. There had been no reason nor draw to do so, but the conversation on the other side of the compartment was progressing without him and he knew from research that in order to avoid an awkward situation, one must find common ground.
He stepped into the small room and invited himself into the open area next to her, removing his wand from his pocket. It was Acacia wood, 11”, specifically tailored as a gift to his Pureblood family by the famed Ollivander. He was proud of it and the fact was noted when he flourished and flicked it purposefully in the air.
“That spell,” he started, jerking his chin at the Slytherin’s book, “requires a more intent approach. Think more of a sword-fight rather than a dance.”
Next step:
DM me if you're interested. Include your favorite kind of candy if you read everything… or don’t. I don’t really care, I just pretend to. lol
Er, yeah, I don't know how to end this. Hope to hear from you soon?
Last edited:
