Melpomene
Writer of Tragedy|Art by ROYTHEART|
And Lo, there stood a pale dragon whose name was Death, and hell followed after him.
It is a New Year so I decided that it was about time I made a whole new search thread!
As many of you probably know, I am not new to roleplay or this site. I have been at this game for a while, but I am hungering for something new and exciting to fill my RP time. As some of you may already know, I am an avid writer and often get a little too obsessed with the written word. I do like studying literature, though that is not what I am majoring in, so I take my stories semi-seriously. That being said, I write novels and am in the process of getting my first one published. So, I expect RPing to be a little more relaxing and a little less intense. It really grinds my gears when I feel that people are taking it too seriously, and by that, I mean when people treat this more like a job than they need to. I don't want to feel like I am applying to a job when I am trying to figure out if we mesh well when it comes to RPing >.<
It has been quite some time since I actively searched for another big RP that could take up my time and I am hoping to find someone to call a friend and RP partner through this. How I will do this is I will want to speak extensively through OOC chat discussing what we want before we begin the RP. Do not fear, it is not because I am testing you, I just find getting to know the person I am working with will help make RPs last longer. So just know upfront now that we will likely be talking for a good while and getting kinks and such in the RP worked out before we even put down the first post.
So, enough introduction, let me begin actually begin getting into the nitty-gritty!
About Me!
I am an 19 y/o female (using she/her/hers pronouns). I am currently in college, studying for a degree in International Studies. Essays may keep me busy from time to time, as well as homework assignments as I am also studying Russian and will be attempting to get a Russian minor. So, this means I will likely be unable to post every day, however, I shall communicate with you. And if I am truly enjoying the RP then it will be very easy for me to keep up with the RP. This is why I like to have a chatty OOC chat with people I click with because usually talking about the RP and things which excites in the RP will help me keep engaged.
I have been RPing for a few years and am currently attempting to get my first novel published, as I mentioned before. From that and the title, you can probably guess that I am a detailed roleplayer. While I understand that quality =/= quantity, my replies still often tend to range between 1000-5000 words. So, I do expect something that has a lot of meat to it. I like to read about how characters feel, what their experiences are, hear flashbacks and stories, perhaps some world-building all combined in posts. This is actually a bit easier with the way I RP because I like people to play multiple characters (I do too, don't worry) and thus when writing actions and such for multiple people, it is easier to make a longer post, especially when you are trying to be very detailed.
And regarding writing! My favorite genre is fantasy, specifically dark fantasy as you will see soon. While I sometimes branch out, more often than not I will want to do a Dark Fantasy RP. For those not in the know, I will go more into detail about that later.
I guess other facts about me... I like chocolate, I am a fan of videogames, so you may see some videogame inpsired plots. I like both epic fantasy and small scale fantasy, so once again you will see both of those. I like food, my favorite being nachos/burritos. My favorite fantasy book series is The Witcher. It beat out ASoIaF. Some people have fought me because of that, but you can call me hipster cause I like what I like xD. I can be cringey at times, and I like memes.
Enough about me, I'm boring-- ON WITH THE SHOW.
Writing Sample
Just to give you guys an idea on how I write and RP. As I said I am a novella Rper. I say this multiple times because in the past people messaged me and then seemed shocked that I wrote so much lol. Without further ado, here is an excerpt:
The ground was soft with the blood that had spilled from the body of the prisoner. There was silence. A hush that rang loudly in the ears of all that lined the streets. Even the World itself had chosen to quiet her voice when the head rolled over her, had dirtied her with the blood that had once resided within it. A haunting silence as the head came to a stop, its emerald gaze forever open and staring back at the crowd that had gathered. The face had gone slack, mouth agape and swollen tongue poking from between the cracked lips. His pale skin had been made pale, and continued to pale still as the rest of his blood spilled out and unto the soft floor.
Despite his lifeless look, despite his pale skin and limpness, it still seemed that he was speaking into that silence. Breaking it with the sound of his very look. The emerald pools staring blankly, yet an emotion seemed to radiate from deep within them. A look of scorn that even death was unable to take away. A look of fear that death -or rather the knowledge that he was going to die- was there with it. A scream seemed to come from that look. One of anguish, hatred. One that hurt the ears of everyone gathered around. One that dared for the silence to be broken with words, the words of anyone whom stood about him now and looked upon him as he sank into the very world that he had sprung from.
The world had been so still at that moment, the silence so deafening that when his pale cheek left the soil, when he had been so harshly seized by the hair and his head lifted high for all to see, it had taken everyone that had gathered by surprise, Saela included. She was no stranger to death. Yet as Rondulin picked up the head of their prisoner, bringing it up and holding it high above his own head, she could not help but feel a jarring yank from her previous state of concentration to this new scene that now was so wantonly displayed before everyone. Every citizen. Every child that looked upon it with their curious eyes that had yet to see such a sight.
Blood dripped from the open neck and along his arm, trailing down and over his shoulder, curving into the gentle dip of his neck. The look of anguish seemed to be magnified by the way he was seizing the man’s hair, the daring look shining bright over the crowd.
And this time the dare was met.
“And thus the guilty fell before the Gods, and their filthy lives stained time no more!” Rondulin cried out, hand shaking but never losing the grip on the dark tresses that he had threaded them through. A cry that was expected, even uttered by tongues all across the crowd before the head had rolled Even so, it elicited a response from those that surrounded him. A cry of triumph. A cry that was soon joined by Rondulin himself as he shook the head once more, feeling the droplets of crimson touch his cheek, staining it the same color. But it would be asking far too much of him at this point to notice.
It was asking too much of everyone as the cheers erupted throughout the crowd, the shock of the execution wearing off and quickly being replaced by victory. And that feeling grew stronger and stronger still as he threw the head from his grip with such ferocity that it rebounded the moment it hit the ground. The cry overcame the dare that had once hung in the air, the silence was long forgotten.
The King’s Spears stood still and silent as the crowd was lost in their victory. Lost in their cheers with the man that now lead them. For many, it was the discipline that kept them from joining in. Most. It was a fact that Saela was rarely nestled in with the majority for most things.
While her golden gaze was trained in the same spot, locked on their Lord, their leader in his victory. But she did not feel the same need as the rest to let out that cry and join them in this celebration. A pity was holding her down, pulling her heart away from the euphoria that beckoned her to it. For his face was alight with victory now, standing with the head of his enemy at his boots, but it was the look of anguish that had taken him over that was pressed into her vision. The way those eyes had been clouded by grief and anger before even the thought of victory glimmer behind the brown pools.
How he had pressed his head to her lap and shook with grief after his mother had lost her life, had given her all to defend what was rightfully theirs against the blasphemous claws that so greedily reached for it. How he had wrapped his arm about her back and she felt the wet against her stomach as he let himself unravel before her. And then her own grief mixed with his in those moments, grief for the loss of the Lady Linjuna, yes, but also for the grief of her lord that she was helpless to lift.
That, that was what she saw as she looked upon him, blood smeared over his arm and face surrounded by people that cheered on his triumph.
His fist came up once again, high in the air and pressed against the burnt red sky. It was that simple motion that caused a hush to fall over them all and sweep them back into the silence that had once consumed them.
“Let us not celebrate too wantonly the death of this man” Rondulin spoke again. “It is not he who deserves so much of our hatred. That is not to say he was unworthy of death. It is just to say that he is nothing more than a dog to the snakes that reside in the mainlands. A feral dog is put down, after all. And what dog could be seen as more feral than one that frolics with snakes?”
A cry from the crowd greeted his words. The shouts of agreement shook the air about them.
“But it is not the dog that should be worried about. They can bite, but it will only wound and startle. Those as strong as we are hardly hurt by the weak attacks of them. All he knows how to do is follow orders. And when those orders stop coming to his ears, see where he ends up?”
His hand gestured down, fingers pointed at the head that now lied in a pool of blood, the pale cheek stained brown and red.
“A dog with no orders can only lay down and die, because he never learned how to play the man and make his own orders. Nay. It is the snake that we shall be wary of. The beasts that hide behind the dog, that slip about your feet unnoticed until they strike. The cowards that cannot face a man in battle, only bite his ankle and then let their poison take him rather than their spears. At the very least, the dog is loyal. The dog may follow the wrong path, but they are not evil. No, it is the snake that the evil lies in.
“I am but a man, not a snake nor a dog. So are we all. Neither snakes nor dogs. Answering to none. Acting on behalf of none. At the same time, we act with strength! With honor! What is a man with no honor? He is a snake! What is a man with no strength? He is a dog! What is he who has both? Not only is he a man, but as well as the man of the highest merit. He is who other men look up to, who they aspire to be. They are the legends, the heroes.”
He took a step back, his chest heaving as he took in breaths he was unaware that his body was in need of. His hand came to press against his own chest, lying over his heart.
“That, that is who we aspire to be. And to be that, we must destroy the evil that taints this land. Strike off the head of the snake that so wantonly slithers in the grass. I ask only to destroy every single piece of filth that stains this very Earth! To cleanse the world of their tyranny and bring back peace to this land and to every land that has suffered because of them! They are snakes, they hurt more than us! They bite the ankles of all that they can reach and bring them down into grass with them. But no more! No more I say, no more! Tonight, tonight we defy the snake. We meet their fangs with our spears!” he took a step back his eyes alight with a fire that very few men are able to achieve. His chest heaved as his forehead shone with sweat and the droplets of blood smeared along his jaw, dropping to the curve of his neck.
There was no silence when his words stopped this time. Instead there was a roar. A roar so powerful that even those in the King’s spears pulled back, wincing slightly at the noise that drowned out all else and seemed to make the air about the shiver with the power that came from that group as they gathered about their leader, his chest heaving, his enemy’s head fallen and at his feet.
Rondulin took a step forwards one more, his eyes grazing over all that stood before him, not wavering and waiting for the next words that would fall from his mouth.
“The spears and I shall lead this battle against the snakes. And once they are no more, rest assured that we shall never be treated with such dishonor again. I shall go by myself if there is no one to join me, however-,” his dark gaze came over the spears that stood behind him. It went over all of them first, then it landed on Saela, holding her golden gaze for only a moment before he turned back to the crowd. “I do not believe that there are many who are so cowardly to deny me.”
He took another step back before he let out his final words to the crowd.
“Soon we shall leave, but watch for when we return, for the sun will be upon us, and the Gods will be with us when we come back to this land.” And then he left. The cheering of the crowd at his back the entire walk back to his own quarters. As loud as those cheers were, it felt they were nothing compared to those that had come for his mother. She had a way with words, a way that he could not emulate, if not because he was unable to copy her, it was simply because the type of person that she was could not be emulated. It was the type that only graced the land every thousand years.
It seemed that someone like her should have been immortal, should have been able to survive these battles of man against all odds. Yet, she was gone now. Had passed and fell to the soft land. Had bled into the dirt and made the land beneath her richer with the blood that coursed through her very veins. She had bled for the land and the land had taken that blood. In the end it had taken her, had enveloped her into its embrace after the fire had warmed her soul.
He stopped in his steps, mouth pulling back into a tight frown as he felt his lips tremble once more, tears prick at the edges of his eyes. He pressed his lips together as he willed his breathing to still and allowed his eyes to fall closed.
“You need not be strong here, brother,” he could hear the whispers of Huin even now. Feel his heavy hand upon his shoulder. “We are family. You are not supposed to be strong in front of us.” Yet he could not find it in himself to allow his younger brother to see that weakness within him when he was supposed to be the pinnacle for this family to follow now. He was supposed to be the strength that lifted them all up, kept them all afloat.
His hand curled into a fist, the knuckles turning white as he clenched his hand so tightly. It was only a second later and the nearest bust had been knocked to the ground, shattering against the stone. His breathing had grown heavy yet again. It seemed that he was going to have to get used to the feeling, being that it seemed to be his normal state now.
“You seem troubled, m’lord.” a soft voice said behind him. He turned slowly, already knowing who it was that was behind him.
Saela’s golden gaze touched his own dark one the moment he turned his head. He was unable to turn his lips into a smile. Not in front of her. He had known her too long to do that.
“I don’t understand why you always feel the need to be so formal, Saela.” he said quietly.
Saela’s shoulders gently rose in a small shrug before she took a step forward, her hands extended out in a gesture of peace and goodwill. A gesture that he accepted and returned readily. His hands met hers, his so large against her that they encompassed the entirety of her hand, feeling the shape of them against his palm.
“Saela,” he breathed. His head fell forward, forehead falling against the top of hers. He was unable to look at her. Unable to open his eyes, despite knowing that all he would face would be the golden orbs filled with warmth. For some reason, he did not wish to look at that. Because everytime, he saw his own emotion reflected in her pools, as though she knew his deepest secret. As if those two drops of gold were able to see deep within him and take what was his as their own. And he could always be reminded just how weak he was when he saw that.
“Rondulin…” She said softly.
A breathy laugh escaped his lips. The air stirred the hair that fell over her brow.
“Why must the situation always escalate before you call me by my name. How long have we known one another?” he said.
“No one else is allowed to call you by your name in private.” she responded. That was always her response.
“You’re different.” he said. He could already see the way her eyes peeked from beneath her lashes to look up at his face.
“No I’m not.”
He did not argue, just squeezed her hands, feeling them press further into his hands. He could feel the callouses that lined her finger tips. Despite them, they still felt soft. Warm. Welcoming and kind. It made him squeeze harder.
Saela did not complain. Did not show discomfort even when she felt the bones in her hand shift from his strength. If anything, she pressed her hands back unto his with the same affection.
“I suppose I am your dog though, right?” He started back at her words, eyes opening enough so he could see her face. See the amusement that graced her features, both as her own words and at the look of shock that had washed over him.
“What?” he said. “No, no why would you think such a thing?”
She smiled, her head tilting to one side and her hair spilling over her shoulder.
“Is that another way I am supposed to be different?”
His eyes searched her face, taking in every dip and a curve of her features. Taking in the soft look that always seemed to be found within her gentle expression. She always seemed to have that warmth in her eyes, never letting it dip into the hard and cold look that the warrior was heir to.
“Yes.” he said quietly. Then his hands left hers in one motion.
“I would not trust a dog to join me in battle,” he said. “Dogs would only follow. But you, you will be by my side. Not through order, you would follow no matter what.”
She looked up at him, head tilted back so she could see his face without her lashes impairing her view of him.
“Always.”
His head fell forwards again, feeling the tickle of her hair against his skin.
“And you will be there when the snakes are strangled from this Earth,” he whispered, so low that even he could barely hear himself. “You understand that dying will be against the orders of your lord?”
Suddenly she let out a sharp laugh, her shoulders shaking with mirth as she pulled away from him, bringing her hand to press against her lips. His brows furrowed in questioning, watching her form as the golden eyes opened once again, sparkling with her amusement.
“Now you are my lord first, and not my friend? I believe you should make up your mind.”
His face broke into a smile once again as he reached out, gripping her shoulder and yanking her into an embrace. His chest vibrated against her in a silent joy as he pressed his chin to the top of her head.
“You are always my friend first. And because of that, I am afraid I must be your lord many times to ensure that I am not friends with a corpse. That is not normal, Saela.”
Her head shifted beneath his chin, causing him to move so that she could look up at him as she wanted to.
“If that is how you believe it must be…” she said.
“It is. Now, we should prepare for our advance, shouldn’t we?”
“Aye, m’lord.” she said. The mirth left her face with those words.
“Aye. Rest. You will not be getting a lot of that after this.” he said. And then he stepped away from her, letting his eyes grace over her features one last time before he turned away. It was set. The Snakes would fall, even if it meant his death.
Despite his lifeless look, despite his pale skin and limpness, it still seemed that he was speaking into that silence. Breaking it with the sound of his very look. The emerald pools staring blankly, yet an emotion seemed to radiate from deep within them. A look of scorn that even death was unable to take away. A look of fear that death -or rather the knowledge that he was going to die- was there with it. A scream seemed to come from that look. One of anguish, hatred. One that hurt the ears of everyone gathered around. One that dared for the silence to be broken with words, the words of anyone whom stood about him now and looked upon him as he sank into the very world that he had sprung from.
The world had been so still at that moment, the silence so deafening that when his pale cheek left the soil, when he had been so harshly seized by the hair and his head lifted high for all to see, it had taken everyone that had gathered by surprise, Saela included. She was no stranger to death. Yet as Rondulin picked up the head of their prisoner, bringing it up and holding it high above his own head, she could not help but feel a jarring yank from her previous state of concentration to this new scene that now was so wantonly displayed before everyone. Every citizen. Every child that looked upon it with their curious eyes that had yet to see such a sight.
Blood dripped from the open neck and along his arm, trailing down and over his shoulder, curving into the gentle dip of his neck. The look of anguish seemed to be magnified by the way he was seizing the man’s hair, the daring look shining bright over the crowd.
And this time the dare was met.
“And thus the guilty fell before the Gods, and their filthy lives stained time no more!” Rondulin cried out, hand shaking but never losing the grip on the dark tresses that he had threaded them through. A cry that was expected, even uttered by tongues all across the crowd before the head had rolled Even so, it elicited a response from those that surrounded him. A cry of triumph. A cry that was soon joined by Rondulin himself as he shook the head once more, feeling the droplets of crimson touch his cheek, staining it the same color. But it would be asking far too much of him at this point to notice.
It was asking too much of everyone as the cheers erupted throughout the crowd, the shock of the execution wearing off and quickly being replaced by victory. And that feeling grew stronger and stronger still as he threw the head from his grip with such ferocity that it rebounded the moment it hit the ground. The cry overcame the dare that had once hung in the air, the silence was long forgotten.
The King’s Spears stood still and silent as the crowd was lost in their victory. Lost in their cheers with the man that now lead them. For many, it was the discipline that kept them from joining in. Most. It was a fact that Saela was rarely nestled in with the majority for most things.
While her golden gaze was trained in the same spot, locked on their Lord, their leader in his victory. But she did not feel the same need as the rest to let out that cry and join them in this celebration. A pity was holding her down, pulling her heart away from the euphoria that beckoned her to it. For his face was alight with victory now, standing with the head of his enemy at his boots, but it was the look of anguish that had taken him over that was pressed into her vision. The way those eyes had been clouded by grief and anger before even the thought of victory glimmer behind the brown pools.
How he had pressed his head to her lap and shook with grief after his mother had lost her life, had given her all to defend what was rightfully theirs against the blasphemous claws that so greedily reached for it. How he had wrapped his arm about her back and she felt the wet against her stomach as he let himself unravel before her. And then her own grief mixed with his in those moments, grief for the loss of the Lady Linjuna, yes, but also for the grief of her lord that she was helpless to lift.
That, that was what she saw as she looked upon him, blood smeared over his arm and face surrounded by people that cheered on his triumph.
His fist came up once again, high in the air and pressed against the burnt red sky. It was that simple motion that caused a hush to fall over them all and sweep them back into the silence that had once consumed them.
“Let us not celebrate too wantonly the death of this man” Rondulin spoke again. “It is not he who deserves so much of our hatred. That is not to say he was unworthy of death. It is just to say that he is nothing more than a dog to the snakes that reside in the mainlands. A feral dog is put down, after all. And what dog could be seen as more feral than one that frolics with snakes?”
A cry from the crowd greeted his words. The shouts of agreement shook the air about them.
“But it is not the dog that should be worried about. They can bite, but it will only wound and startle. Those as strong as we are hardly hurt by the weak attacks of them. All he knows how to do is follow orders. And when those orders stop coming to his ears, see where he ends up?”
His hand gestured down, fingers pointed at the head that now lied in a pool of blood, the pale cheek stained brown and red.
“A dog with no orders can only lay down and die, because he never learned how to play the man and make his own orders. Nay. It is the snake that we shall be wary of. The beasts that hide behind the dog, that slip about your feet unnoticed until they strike. The cowards that cannot face a man in battle, only bite his ankle and then let their poison take him rather than their spears. At the very least, the dog is loyal. The dog may follow the wrong path, but they are not evil. No, it is the snake that the evil lies in.
“I am but a man, not a snake nor a dog. So are we all. Neither snakes nor dogs. Answering to none. Acting on behalf of none. At the same time, we act with strength! With honor! What is a man with no honor? He is a snake! What is a man with no strength? He is a dog! What is he who has both? Not only is he a man, but as well as the man of the highest merit. He is who other men look up to, who they aspire to be. They are the legends, the heroes.”
He took a step back, his chest heaving as he took in breaths he was unaware that his body was in need of. His hand came to press against his own chest, lying over his heart.
“That, that is who we aspire to be. And to be that, we must destroy the evil that taints this land. Strike off the head of the snake that so wantonly slithers in the grass. I ask only to destroy every single piece of filth that stains this very Earth! To cleanse the world of their tyranny and bring back peace to this land and to every land that has suffered because of them! They are snakes, they hurt more than us! They bite the ankles of all that they can reach and bring them down into grass with them. But no more! No more I say, no more! Tonight, tonight we defy the snake. We meet their fangs with our spears!” he took a step back his eyes alight with a fire that very few men are able to achieve. His chest heaved as his forehead shone with sweat and the droplets of blood smeared along his jaw, dropping to the curve of his neck.
There was no silence when his words stopped this time. Instead there was a roar. A roar so powerful that even those in the King’s spears pulled back, wincing slightly at the noise that drowned out all else and seemed to make the air about the shiver with the power that came from that group as they gathered about their leader, his chest heaving, his enemy’s head fallen and at his feet.
Rondulin took a step forwards one more, his eyes grazing over all that stood before him, not wavering and waiting for the next words that would fall from his mouth.
“The spears and I shall lead this battle against the snakes. And once they are no more, rest assured that we shall never be treated with such dishonor again. I shall go by myself if there is no one to join me, however-,” his dark gaze came over the spears that stood behind him. It went over all of them first, then it landed on Saela, holding her golden gaze for only a moment before he turned back to the crowd. “I do not believe that there are many who are so cowardly to deny me.”
He took another step back before he let out his final words to the crowd.
“Soon we shall leave, but watch for when we return, for the sun will be upon us, and the Gods will be with us when we come back to this land.” And then he left. The cheering of the crowd at his back the entire walk back to his own quarters. As loud as those cheers were, it felt they were nothing compared to those that had come for his mother. She had a way with words, a way that he could not emulate, if not because he was unable to copy her, it was simply because the type of person that she was could not be emulated. It was the type that only graced the land every thousand years.
It seemed that someone like her should have been immortal, should have been able to survive these battles of man against all odds. Yet, she was gone now. Had passed and fell to the soft land. Had bled into the dirt and made the land beneath her richer with the blood that coursed through her very veins. She had bled for the land and the land had taken that blood. In the end it had taken her, had enveloped her into its embrace after the fire had warmed her soul.
He stopped in his steps, mouth pulling back into a tight frown as he felt his lips tremble once more, tears prick at the edges of his eyes. He pressed his lips together as he willed his breathing to still and allowed his eyes to fall closed.
“You need not be strong here, brother,” he could hear the whispers of Huin even now. Feel his heavy hand upon his shoulder. “We are family. You are not supposed to be strong in front of us.” Yet he could not find it in himself to allow his younger brother to see that weakness within him when he was supposed to be the pinnacle for this family to follow now. He was supposed to be the strength that lifted them all up, kept them all afloat.
His hand curled into a fist, the knuckles turning white as he clenched his hand so tightly. It was only a second later and the nearest bust had been knocked to the ground, shattering against the stone. His breathing had grown heavy yet again. It seemed that he was going to have to get used to the feeling, being that it seemed to be his normal state now.
“You seem troubled, m’lord.” a soft voice said behind him. He turned slowly, already knowing who it was that was behind him.
Saela’s golden gaze touched his own dark one the moment he turned his head. He was unable to turn his lips into a smile. Not in front of her. He had known her too long to do that.
“I don’t understand why you always feel the need to be so formal, Saela.” he said quietly.
Saela’s shoulders gently rose in a small shrug before she took a step forward, her hands extended out in a gesture of peace and goodwill. A gesture that he accepted and returned readily. His hands met hers, his so large against her that they encompassed the entirety of her hand, feeling the shape of them against his palm.
“Saela,” he breathed. His head fell forward, forehead falling against the top of hers. He was unable to look at her. Unable to open his eyes, despite knowing that all he would face would be the golden orbs filled with warmth. For some reason, he did not wish to look at that. Because everytime, he saw his own emotion reflected in her pools, as though she knew his deepest secret. As if those two drops of gold were able to see deep within him and take what was his as their own. And he could always be reminded just how weak he was when he saw that.
“Rondulin…” She said softly.
A breathy laugh escaped his lips. The air stirred the hair that fell over her brow.
“Why must the situation always escalate before you call me by my name. How long have we known one another?” he said.
“No one else is allowed to call you by your name in private.” she responded. That was always her response.
“You’re different.” he said. He could already see the way her eyes peeked from beneath her lashes to look up at his face.
“No I’m not.”
He did not argue, just squeezed her hands, feeling them press further into his hands. He could feel the callouses that lined her finger tips. Despite them, they still felt soft. Warm. Welcoming and kind. It made him squeeze harder.
Saela did not complain. Did not show discomfort even when she felt the bones in her hand shift from his strength. If anything, she pressed her hands back unto his with the same affection.
“I suppose I am your dog though, right?” He started back at her words, eyes opening enough so he could see her face. See the amusement that graced her features, both as her own words and at the look of shock that had washed over him.
“What?” he said. “No, no why would you think such a thing?”
She smiled, her head tilting to one side and her hair spilling over her shoulder.
“Is that another way I am supposed to be different?”
His eyes searched her face, taking in every dip and a curve of her features. Taking in the soft look that always seemed to be found within her gentle expression. She always seemed to have that warmth in her eyes, never letting it dip into the hard and cold look that the warrior was heir to.
“Yes.” he said quietly. Then his hands left hers in one motion.
“I would not trust a dog to join me in battle,” he said. “Dogs would only follow. But you, you will be by my side. Not through order, you would follow no matter what.”
She looked up at him, head tilted back so she could see his face without her lashes impairing her view of him.
“Always.”
His head fell forwards again, feeling the tickle of her hair against his skin.
“And you will be there when the snakes are strangled from this Earth,” he whispered, so low that even he could barely hear himself. “You understand that dying will be against the orders of your lord?”
Suddenly she let out a sharp laugh, her shoulders shaking with mirth as she pulled away from him, bringing her hand to press against her lips. His brows furrowed in questioning, watching her form as the golden eyes opened once again, sparkling with her amusement.
“Now you are my lord first, and not my friend? I believe you should make up your mind.”
His face broke into a smile once again as he reached out, gripping her shoulder and yanking her into an embrace. His chest vibrated against her in a silent joy as he pressed his chin to the top of her head.
“You are always my friend first. And because of that, I am afraid I must be your lord many times to ensure that I am not friends with a corpse. That is not normal, Saela.”
Her head shifted beneath his chin, causing him to move so that she could look up at him as she wanted to.
“If that is how you believe it must be…” she said.
“It is. Now, we should prepare for our advance, shouldn’t we?”
“Aye, m’lord.” she said. The mirth left her face with those words.
“Aye. Rest. You will not be getting a lot of that after this.” he said. And then he stepped away from her, letting his eyes grace over her features one last time before he turned away. It was set. The Snakes would fall, even if it meant his death.
About my Rules
Guess this is still about me, huh?
Well then continue to be bored for a little while longer, buckaroo.
Time to talk about taste! So you can look through this list and if based off a glance, and my plots you are thinking we could be good partners, then you should click my name and then click "Start a Conversation" because ya gal wants to meet ya and she would be very happy to make her acquaintance. If not, then that is okay and I very much hope you find someone that meets your preferences
thank you for giving my thread the time of day.Without further ado, here are my preferences/rules/Do's and don'ts:
- Be willing to double and give equal spotlight to all characters in the RP. I am going to be a little harsh here, so please bear with me, if you are not 100% okay with playing multiple characters then please do not bother. Because then we both will not be having fun. I want you to have fun playing all the characters in your cast and if you are only interested in playing one then you will not. And then I will not be having fun because I can clearly see when you are half-assing one character just because it is a rule requirement of mine. If you just come because you want someone to play a male/female against your male/female OC, then this is not the place for you, I am afraid. There is nothing wrong with that, but I am not roleplaying specifically to make a romance or anything of the like. The reason why I like multiple characters is that it adds more body to the story. If one character is just going to be dead weight, then the story gets dragged down.
- Be willing to Brainstorm. There is nothing I love more than talking about future events in our RP. And I like us to come up with them together. If I wanted to do it alone, I would write by myself. But I want to do it with you, whoever you are that might come across this and think that I am cool. (So no one. Got it, Inquisitor). If you have an idea for your character in the future, tell me so we can incorporate it into the story together. You want the princess poisoned? Tell me and I can play the assassin. Do you have an event in mind? A place you have been building and would like to visit? Tell me and we can figure out how to incorporate it into the story.
- Don't Steal All the Spotlight. This is just to say I expect the same courtesy. When I speak, I want my voice to be heard so we can work to do something I want as well as something you want. We can incorporate ideas we are both fond of. But I have to ask you don't try to take the reigns completely. I have had bad times with partners making the RP all about their character, usually their female, not going to lie. And I am not calling anyone out here, because this has happened to me multiple times. So when we are making plots and characters, let us be courteous and allow all ideas and characters to shine. Trust me, everyone will get their chance.
- Make some Banging Characters. My favorite part of writing is the characters. I love them and I always will. I want some characters we can chat into the night about. About his fears for the future. About how she wants to be the most powerful goddamn queen ever. This really isn't something I emphasize, as long as the character adds more than a pretty lamp would, then I am damn fine with them. So, basically make sure the character is proactive and is doing things.
- Also Be Into Dark Fantasy. It is probably best that we like the same genre
. But, if you are unsure what Dark Fantasy is, it is a Fantasy with darker themes and some elements grounded in reality. It can crossover with things like epic fantasy. Notable Dark Fantasy pieces are Game of Thrones and The Witcher. One notable thing about Dark Fantasy is that it is not about gore and rape as many authors try to make it. What I like about dark fantasy is that is set in places that often seem bleak, making more noble acts stand out more. People are not perfect, there aren't always good choices, sometimes only the lesser evil. Though, if you're Geralt of Rivia, you would rather not choose at all if that is the case. This doesn't mean most people are evil, some might do things out of love and kindness still, but things end badly. Things turn bleak. But people can still be good despite it all.
- Be Willing to Fangirl over Characters and the RP with me! I am a fangirl at heart. I like having a partner when it happens. I will be a fangirl until I am 90. So, be willing to do it with me about the characters we have created. As I mentioned, there will be a lot of OOC chat and I will probably talk with you extensively OOC before even beginning to type up a post so we get a good grasp on the characters and where we want the plot to go.
- Romance, while I love it, will not be the central focus. I actually do love romance. In fact, I get very attached to a good and well-written romance. However, I don't want this RP to be a bunch of mushy and romantic language, I am not interested in that. I fully expect fluffy moments and sweetness as well as angst. A good romance can give all of that. I also do not want a forced romance. I like my romances to build over time. Even if they begin getting together soon, I like exploring relationships. But it is always a side story that, while it will likely be big in the character's arcs, I do not want this to overtake the main plot.
- Be 18+. I just don't feel comfortable with anyone younger. Especially since there will be dark themes in this RP. 19+ preferably, as I am about to turn 19.
- The basics: No Godmodding, nothing that breaks site rules, fade to black during romance times... blah blah blah
- FINALLY! If you are interested, send me a PM giving me a brief description of YOU, what you like and some ideas you have for characters/ plots based on what you have seen here. It does not have to be one of my plots, we can make our own entirely from scratch in the PM, but before that, I would like to hear some things about my partner. Whatever you want to talk about, your favorite videogame, book, tv show, movie, what you like in RPs or characters, anything! Just so I can get to know you a little more.
PLOTS!
Let me say now that you are not required to choose any of these. If you have an idea you think I would like, or would like to brainstorm together about something, feel free to still just PM and do it! I will likely say yes! On with the show!
The Winter of Our Discontent
And Therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days
I am determined to prove a villain
And hate the idle pleasures of these days
--Gloucester, Richard III, Shakespeare
(A mixture of nation building and fantasy)
King Anri has been declining in both health and mentally. Though he was able to produce an heir and his wife, Queen Geneva of Swarhal, is now pregnant, his inability to rule has begun to shake the Kingdom of Bresal. Thus, a family headed by Duke Gregor Beumont has come, as a close cousin to the King, he has laid claim to the title of Lord Protector, effectively deposing the King that had fallen into madness and taking on the governmental duties which had once befallen the now mad king. In that, he has risen his family into a new state of power. The Beaumont family, though they have not fully seized the throne, have been declared the heir, thus displacing both the king and his future son for the throne. Beumont was an old family that had a deep hold in the roots of the Kingdom of Bresal, having control of a large amount of the land of the Kingdom, and now having no one to answer to, despite the fact they still technically did not hold the throne, many other smaller lords had chosen to bow to them as the new future King of Bresal in search of having some prominence in the new court that would be created.And Therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days
I am determined to prove a villain
And hate the idle pleasures of these days
--Gloucester, Richard III, Shakespeare
(A mixture of nation building and fantasy)
King Anri, however, has slowly recovered from his bout of madness and attempted to reclaim the throne which was rightfully taken from him. With his son born, and a daughter on the way, he wished to depose Gregor as lord protector and instead return the title of heir back to his son.
Even within this family, however, there is war and peace which constantly pervades them. Brother fights against brother, and in anger one will turn against the other.
Queen Geneva, however, refused to lie down. With the help of the Normanders, she has support to lead an attack against the Beumonts. Despite the fact her husband had begun to return to health, he had been imprisoned in the Tower of Ygrial, unable to rule and denied of all his abilities to return to power. Geneva herself, however, is still free. She has gathered the Normanders, and other smaller houses that still support the re-implementation of King Anri, however, it is looking bleak for them and their family having been unable to have a true victory and free her husband to reestablish themselves and their now older son and daughter.
The war still rages on, the only certainty is that the winner will have to rebuild a kingdom from ashes.
The Forgotten Kingdom
This will be a very large roleplay based on holy wars (it will be a mixture of nation-building and fantasy)
Based loosely on 'The Lions of Al-Rassan' by Guy Gavriel Kay
Three people are split among the lands. Their religions have severed them from one another, and their nations have split apart.
It began with King Ferzidand of Irspana, taking his wife: Isabella of Norum. The kingdoms were united, their forces joined in a union which was to change the face of the entire world. They were to be an unstoppable force, their marriage a representation of all that they could accomplish. While King Ferzidand was an ambitious man, he soon found that invading the Southern Desert nations required more than just willpower alone, as though they had seemingly been split, their empire still held forever stronger and their might still would lour'd over the Messite people for the rest of their days. Old and fat, King Ferzidand had returned to his home with no victory, but instead a crippling defeat and blow to his ego, his body ragged and worn down, his children laid him to rest, his oldest son: Luthiel, locking him in his room the moment his mind began to disintegrate and the man began speaking mad things. Though his mother and sisters begged Luthiel to show mercy, he was a hard and cruel man, but he was also able to keep the family name immaculate by hiding the madness which supposedly ran through their veins, and in that he has prepared them for another show of power, another crusade. The Holy Leader has blessed their want for war, declaring that the wicked shall become holy once again.
But the Tirite people are not waiting to be conquered. Their lands having been invaded again and again, they have grown weary of the constant attacks led against their land and the attempts to turn their people away from their Gods. Though some of have been seduced away from their piety by the wanton ambling nymph which is greed and the desirous flesh that bids them welcome, they are not ready to give up their land. The ruler of the desert lands, Sultan Ashoka, has decided the time was up and they would expand their empire far beyond the desert. If it was war that Irspana wanted, then it was war that they would get. Despite former relations they had once had with the Northern people, it all was soon coming to naught as he gathered his sons and the husbands of his daughters, and the suitors of his unmarried daughters and began to build an army which could take on the people of the North. While his empire was once split by greed into city states, it has since risen again at the promise of a new Empire being built on the back of a war which would sweep across both nations, converting those against their Gods killing those who refuse to capitulate.
That is it for now!
PM me should you find any of them interesting
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