Multiple Settings 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 — 𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙣.

[bad wolf]

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[div class=taggies]𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣.

Heyyy! The name's Alfred or just plain Al. I'm a 23 yr old college graduate that prefers she/her pronouns. Quite recently, I had a bit of a melt down when it comes to writing. Realizing I'm between jobs and quarantined, I'm trying to ease back into things with a 1x1 or small, three person group.

A bit about myself... My first love is writing. I've been doing it for as long as I can remember. Movies/TV shows are a close second and I'm always appreciative of a few good recommendations. Writing-wise, I'm in a bit of a rut right now. My present style is pretty melodramatic and angsty and I'm definitely working on toning that back some, maybe work on adding in some dark comedy. So if you're at all willing to help with any of that and you're also looking for someone to return the favor, I'm absolutely down to offer some assistance.

Lastly, I know this introduction might be a bit of a drag but if you're looking for something a little more longterm, I feel like all the cards should be on the table. I've got severe anxiety when it comes to talking to people. It takes a lot of energy and there are days when I just don't feel up to it. I'm prone to periods of silence. I go quiet and I think my partner has lost interest and drop the project altogether without any word. I know that angers a lot of people here and I'm genuinely trying to work on that but hey... I'm not perfect. If you're willing to shoot me a message every now and again, I'll be sure to do the same and get back to you as soon as I can.

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[div class=taggies]𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨.

I'll try to make this as concise as possible. Please, read through it all.

» First and foremost, I do prefer that my partner be 18+ yrs of age.
» Above all things, follow the forum rules. I'm not open to taking anything but chatter off-site. RPN is where I'm most comfortable engaging with IC writing.
» It's quality over quantity. Though I try not to go under 500 words, my post length varies greatly. Write what you think best fits whatever scene we're in. I don't much care about the length as much as I do the effort.
» I'm a fan of plotting/chatting and I do a lot of this over discord. If you plan on pming me, please know that I'd appreciate it if you had an account I could message.
» I enjoy romance but I don't expect any of my characters to start out in one. If we come up with two characters, I don't want to plan it with any ship in mind. Let's keep clear of forced relationships and let it happen naturally as the plot progresses. If we want to aim for a pairing and see how it goes, I'm open to most all but have a preference right now for m//.
» I'm also a big fan of platonic relationships or sibling dynamics. If you wanted to omit romance entirely, I'm not opposed to the idea.
» I prefer realistic faceclaims and am pretty interested in doing a cs for whatever rp I'm in.
» PM me to start a rp. To help progress things a little, just make sure you include the following:

• Introduce yourself
• Specify what you're interested in
• Provide a writing sample

» Please, contribute to the plot! Offer ideas and expand on things I might also suggest. Rping is very much a collaborative process.
» Lastly, just be patient. If we could both post at least twice a week, that would be absolutely fantastic!

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[div class=taggies]𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 & 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙠.

On to the fun stuff! I tend to geek out a little over characters and plots. I'll make moodboards on pinterest and suggest music all day long. If that's your jazz, don't be afraid to do the same! The following information is basically just here to give you an idea about what I'm interested in rping. The setting tab is a little restricting so if there's something there that doesn't strike your fancy but you're still interested, message me your own ideas! I'd love to hear them.

horror || thriller || action || historical || dark comedy || noir || western || grit || supernatural || Barry (2018) || BTVS (1992) || Mad Max: Fury Road (2015) || Logan (2017) || Drive (2011) || the occult || cults || the roaring twenties || medieval || witches || wendigos || mothman || androids || apocalypse || neon noir

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[div class=taggies]𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙨.

I've three working ideas. They're pretty vague and more so setting ideas than actual plots. If one catches your eye, feel free to PM me about them! Just know they'll need some planning.

Whistle In the Dark: Based on the movie 28 Days Later (2002), this plot idea follows a group of survivors amidst a viral outbreak. The virus is contracted through bodily fluids and turns the infected within seconds into a mindlessly enraged person, zombie-like but living and human in every manner but the mind. Our characters are located in a densely populated area. They are a couple weeks into the virus and the situation is dire.

Lesser of Two Evils: I'm in a kick and this plot also involves a sort of apocalypse. Angels have fallen and demons have risen. There is war on Earth and it decimates all life. When a renegade angel is injured in a battle, they make a run in with a human. Their own fate is in the hands of a being which, against all odds, has survived a terror brought on by this war between Heaven and Hell.

Wayward Sons: Just your plain old animal POV rp. I've been wanting to do a wolf rp forever now and would absolutely be interested in exploring this idea.

[/div] [/div] [div class=trueimg][/div][/div][div class=text]𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙖 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧.[/div] [div class=a]𝐈.[/div][div class=b]𝐈𝐈.[/div][div class=c]𝐈𝐈𝐈.[/div][div class=d]𝐈𝐕.[/div] [/div] [class=cred] width:100%;text-align:center;font-size:8px;[/class][div class=cred]fated.[/div]

 

[bad wolf]

Spoiler: Writing Sample #1

If he were home by the sea, he might walk into the waters and never resurface, take with him the tired weight of the world and drown it beneath dark waves. He'd let the current lull him to sleep in its fearsome embrace and feed the fish every black thought and rancid memory he'd held onto. His eyes would stare and his mouth would draw in a long and cool breath. The slate would be washed clean and he'd start anew someplace far and foreign.

. . .

Standing in the doorway to the castle's stables, Josef rocked a cup of tea around in his hands. Casting a look back into the dark, he sipped at the warm drink and leaned against the door's frame. His voice was raspy as he spoke. "Wake up." Inside the stable and around the corner, a man lay in a heap on the ground, the stench of sick rolling off him. Kicking his boot, Josef held the cup close to his face, breathing in the steam, the smell of steeped barley and a bit of honey he'd scavenged from the kitchen. He didn't have to look at the man to know he hadn't stirred, the noise he was making in his sleep still strong and undisturbed.

Behind him, the castle smoked. They'd laid siege to it for four longs weeks, pelting the hard exterior with flaming pitch and boulder. Late in the night, the lord of the castle had surrendered after a breach in the walls and Asher's army had rejoiced, bedding down with warm ale. Josef himself was recovering from the celebration, nursing a headache by squinting through the morning light. Wrapping one arm comfortably around his torso, he turned slightly to look out at the yard. The new day had brought with it a silence which settled over the castle like dense fog. Nothing could penetrate it. The men woke weary, their gazes long and solemn. They held their heads in their hands and sauntered about the yard like mindless specters. The few that were functional, ate little and drank too much.

The thrill of victory had long since faded. Word of an approaching army, sobering.

Tipping back the last of his tea, Josef turned his attention upon the man again. He looked at him plainly, their routine near habitual. "Wake up." His voice came louder this time, still monotoned and empty. When the man showed no sign of budging, Josef dropped his hands to his sides and trudged towards the nearest horse trough. Dipping the cup into the water, he returned to crouch close to the man. Staring at him for a moment, he held the cup out and poured the water onto his head. He woke with a sputter, almost knocking Josef out of the way before he could stand and retreat a few steps.

"Damn you, boy." The man, his father, glared and wiped at his face. "Can you not let a dead man rest peacefully?"

Backed against the nearest stall, Josef crossed his arms over his chest. "You're not dead yet."

"No... But destined to soon enough." Sat up, Sir Isaac set both elbows atop his knees and swept back grease-slicked hair. "Asher would have it be today," he mumbled.

"Perhaps... One of the courier's brought word. Fletcher's army is near."

"Then the poor bastards surrendered for nothing."

Josef was quiet as Isaac spoke, watching carefully. "You're certain we'll lose?" He finally asked.

"We took the castle but our resources are low. We celebrate but half our troop is bedridden and ill." Isaac spit as he spoke and stood. Stumbling first toward Josef, he took the cup from his hand and walked over to the trough. Leaning over it, he used the cup to rinse out his beard and hair. "Pray to your God, boy." He turned as he spoke to look at Josef sternly, brown water dripping from his face. "You'll meet him soon enough."

. . .

Wrapping the reigns to his horse tightly around one hand, Josef used the other to pat its neck. She only stamped the ground in response and bobbed her head. Next to him, another nickered quietly and, further down the line, a horse lunged about their rider nervously. There was a chorus of noise as other knights readied themselves for the forward advance. They secured their armor and inspected their weapons, hardly a word uttered between anyone.

Running a hand down the length of her mane, Josef leaned forward, closer to his horse's ear. "Stay your worries, Rhona. We ride with the sun on our backs," he whispered. Straightening himself again, he gave her a second's pause before leading her to the front.

There was a speech to be had and a prayer to Saint George. A man dressed in battle-proved armor rode the line, shouting words of encouragement upon those first to do battle. Josef heard only his breathing. His eyes wandered about the tight formation, starring as his body tensed. The sun shone overhead, glares of silver clouding a hillside laden with crisp evergreen. His head fell back and he felt the light on his face. He shut his eyes against it and imagined the rush of blood in his ears were crashing waves. If he listened hard enough, he might hear a voice call from its midst, small and gentle. It'd speak to him things he'd long since left behind, sweet words of moments passed.

The metallic screech of sliding metal drew his attention back to the front. The general stood before them, his sword raised as he screamed their country's name. Josef raised his lance high into the air and joined the troop in a rallying cry, his voice lost in a thunderous roar of shouting and moving armor. The general turned his horse toward the open field. On the horizon stood their adversary, foot knights ready with lance and sword. Securing their visors, Lord Asher's men rode off to meet them.

. . .

Though Josef sought for it, he could not see the blue of the sky. However hard he might try, there was only red. Before him, Sir Isaac knelt. He held him by the shoulders and starred into Josef's eyes firmly, intent on finding something there. Josef would spare him the trouble.

"It's done."

With a pained look, he choked and Isaac peered at him then with a softness he'd thought impossible of the crude and broken knight. Knelt in the dirt, Isaac pulled him forward, his arms closing tightly around Josef as his head lolled back and onto his shoulder. Blood pooled in his mouth and painted the silver of Isaac's pauldron. "Where do we stand?" Josef asked, his voice little more than a whisper.

"With England," Isaac replied, his own unsteady.

There was a numbness which spread through Josef like cool water, leaving him cold to the touch and distant. The fire he'd felt rage in his stomach for so long, burned down to cinders. There was an urgency to say something more, but the words were lost, a strangled gasp of air the last he could offer. Gripping Isaac tight and desperate, Josef cast his gaze over the knight's shoulder to the field beyond.

Mountains of flesh and iron, shinning and terrible. Turned terrain, muddied by pools of dark crimson. Torn standards billowed by a faint breeze.

Josef shut his eyes against it and he listened instead. From afar, he could hear a voice... small and gentle.

. . .

"-stared up at me like a cat on the prowl, so young and still so curious."

Opening his eyes, Josef drank in a dark nothingness, split only by a faint orange glow.

"See, I'd seen my others, and they were as beautiful a baby as any other, but you..." There was a rustling as someone set something down. A figure moved about the room, dragging something behind them. "They looked for their mothers while you stared right at me. You sought me out and stopped me in my tracks, Josef."

"Where am I?" Seated in a chair, Josef sat up slowly, his gaze sweeping about the room. "Who are you?"

"I thought it best to bring you to my forge... I don't mingle well with the others."

Shaking his head, Josef pushed off the chair. "That tells me nothing."

"Hmm. Yes. But the point here is to break the news softly, son. Answering everything right away could leave you in a state of shock." The man gasped in the dark. "That's why I'm telling you my stories. I thought they might bring you some comfort." The distinct sound of a hammer sliding against stone briefly filled his ears before things fell quiet again.

"I don't need your comfort. I need answers," Josef snapped, his jaw tight and hands searching. "Who are you?" He asked it slowly this time.

"Ohh. I go by many names. They called me Vulcan in another life, Lord of Volcanoes! Clever that, isn't it?" Next to the light, the man raised his arms and posed. He held himself there proudly for a moment before hunching over and limping on through the shadows. "But that was many years ago. You can call me whatever you like really. I've come to care less about who I am. Should you not concern yourself with what I am?"

"A man," Josef said simply, trying to appease the stranger.

"No."

"Then what? Pray tell. I've lost my patience."

The man chuckled and faced him. "I am a blacksmith," he said slowly and bemusedly. "I... Am... A son! To a king and a queen. I am brother to many. I am an inventor and I am a god." He paused then as if to let Josef process these things. "But perhaps my most proud... I am a father, Josef. I am your father." Through the dark, the man rose a hammer far overhead and brought it down on a sheet of metal, illuminating the room instantly with shards of burning light. They hung in the air as the man set the tool down and walked toward Josef. He came at a lunge, his feet twisted behind him. Placing a hand on his shoulder in passing, the man stopped to look at him. "It's time we joined the others."

Writing Sample #2​

 

[bad wolf]

me realizing i used the wrong your/you're: time to change my name and start over.

 

[bad wolf]

heyyyyy. it's late. i had my coffee. let's do this.
if you've pmed me your interest already, i'm in the process of typing up a response!