lostlovesandmagic
New Member
STILL IN NEED OF WRITING PARTNERS! 
Welcome to my search thread! I am 20+ and female. I have several years of roleplaying experience, and I write original characters and plots. I love all things fantasy, magical, and supernatural.
My minimum posting frequency is at least one response per week, but when I'm not busy you can expect multiple replies a week (or even multiple replies a day)! If I am unable to respond in a timely manner, I will do my utmost to inform you so that you're not left hanging. Additionally, I have a tendency to write long responses, sometimes exceeding 1,000+ words. On average though, my responses are between 300-500 words.
I enjoy world building and helping to develop plot. I'll never leave all the work to you, and you can expect a handful of ideas from me. I'm open to a variety of settings, plots, and characters. I'll write male or female characters, but romantic relationships between characters will be m/f.
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I am very flexible and open to ideas other than the ones below. We can either expand on these or come up with something entirely new that better fits both our interests. Or you can send me an idea that you have and are dying to write!
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Welcome to my search thread! I am 20+ and female. I have several years of roleplaying experience, and I write original characters and plots. I love all things fantasy, magical, and supernatural.
My minimum posting frequency is at least one response per week, but when I'm not busy you can expect multiple replies a week (or even multiple replies a day)! If I am unable to respond in a timely manner, I will do my utmost to inform you so that you're not left hanging. Additionally, I have a tendency to write long responses, sometimes exceeding 1,000+ words. On average though, my responses are between 300-500 words.
I enjoy world building and helping to develop plot. I'll never leave all the work to you, and you can expect a handful of ideas from me. I'm open to a variety of settings, plots, and characters. I'll write male or female characters, but romantic relationships between characters will be m/f.
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The wind shifted, splitting the eerie silence. It was that peculiar time right before dusk falls, when the sun starts its slow descent into the horizon and shadows creep forward to cover everything in sight. Vibrant hues of light illuminated the sky, casting a deep glow across the prairie. The rolling fields of tall grass glistened like gold, wavering back and forth in the autumn breeze. They rustled together, the only sound to accompany the long trek into the village.
She shouldn’t be moving towards the sound—or, more accurately, the lack of it. There should have been farmers on that trail, quickly making their way home before dark fell. The sounds of churning dirt and low murmurs should have been caught by the wisps of wind that tickled against her cheeks. Instead, Maeve heard nothing but the sway of grass. Her instincts screamed. She really, really, shouldn’t be following that deathly silence.
The bag of grain on her shoulders weighed heavy against her body, and she moved as if wadding through water. She stifled a groan, adjusting her posture until she was only slightly more comfortable. “How much further, Edmund?” She kept her voice low, barely above a whisper as if afraid to interrupt the perfect stillness that seemed to have befallen their company.
“Shouldn’t be long now,” he assured her, slowing his stride to keep pace with her. Like her, Edmund carried a bag of grain on his shoulders, but he also held a basket of roots in his arms and had a large broadsword strapped to his waist. There was no sign of exertion in his features, and he smiled easily at her, the corners of his lips twitching up brightly.
“Don’t even start with me,” she warned, huffing indigently.
Edmund shrugged, his smile widening. “If you joined in our training more, you might be able to keep up.” He nudged her with his shoulder, and then quickly ducked to dodge the fist she aimed at him. “All I’m saying,” he started, widening the gap between them hastily, “is that even Nan keeps a better pace than you.”
Maeve glared. They’d had this conversation before, and he knew what her answer would be. It was the same as it always was. She was a healer, not a fighter. She wouldn’t let Edmund—or anyone else for that matter—mold her into something she refused to be.
“I think we’re close,” she said instead, wincing.
They could smell the village before they even saw it. A foul, rancid scent wafted through the air. Edmund didn’t respond, instead stepping closer to her side and reaching out to squeeze her shoulder gently. It was a smell they were both familiar with: death.
By the time they saw the ramshackle, wooden lean-tos that composed the small village, the scent of rot and decay was overpowering. Maeve had her scarf pulled up to cover her nose, but even then she tried to breathe evenly from her mouth. She could practically taste death on her tongue.
“Oh gods,” she gasped, startling to a halt. There was no smoke coming from the homes, no children running around through the last stretches of daylight. There wasn’t a soul in sight, because for as far as she could see everyone was dead.
She shouldn’t be moving towards the sound—or, more accurately, the lack of it. There should have been farmers on that trail, quickly making their way home before dark fell. The sounds of churning dirt and low murmurs should have been caught by the wisps of wind that tickled against her cheeks. Instead, Maeve heard nothing but the sway of grass. Her instincts screamed. She really, really, shouldn’t be following that deathly silence.
The bag of grain on her shoulders weighed heavy against her body, and she moved as if wadding through water. She stifled a groan, adjusting her posture until she was only slightly more comfortable. “How much further, Edmund?” She kept her voice low, barely above a whisper as if afraid to interrupt the perfect stillness that seemed to have befallen their company.
“Shouldn’t be long now,” he assured her, slowing his stride to keep pace with her. Like her, Edmund carried a bag of grain on his shoulders, but he also held a basket of roots in his arms and had a large broadsword strapped to his waist. There was no sign of exertion in his features, and he smiled easily at her, the corners of his lips twitching up brightly.
“Don’t even start with me,” she warned, huffing indigently.
Edmund shrugged, his smile widening. “If you joined in our training more, you might be able to keep up.” He nudged her with his shoulder, and then quickly ducked to dodge the fist she aimed at him. “All I’m saying,” he started, widening the gap between them hastily, “is that even Nan keeps a better pace than you.”
Maeve glared. They’d had this conversation before, and he knew what her answer would be. It was the same as it always was. She was a healer, not a fighter. She wouldn’t let Edmund—or anyone else for that matter—mold her into something she refused to be.
“I think we’re close,” she said instead, wincing.
They could smell the village before they even saw it. A foul, rancid scent wafted through the air. Edmund didn’t respond, instead stepping closer to her side and reaching out to squeeze her shoulder gently. It was a smell they were both familiar with: death.
By the time they saw the ramshackle, wooden lean-tos that composed the small village, the scent of rot and decay was overpowering. Maeve had her scarf pulled up to cover her nose, but even then she tried to breathe evenly from her mouth. She could practically taste death on her tongue.
“Oh gods,” she gasped, startling to a halt. There was no smoke coming from the homes, no children running around through the last stretches of daylight. There wasn’t a soul in sight, because for as far as she could see everyone was dead.
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- You must be 18+. I am uncomfortable writing with minors.
- All main characters must be 18+ as well.
- Send me a PM if you want to write with me. You don't have to be interested in one of my suggested prompts. We can brainstorm or discuss one of your ideas!
- If you send me a PM, I'd really appreciate if you could include a short writing sample. Doesn't need to be fancy, just so I can get a feel for if we will be compatible writers.
- Multiple paragraphs with each response. Obviously, quality over quantity, but I do prefer longer, literate responses.
- Let me know how often you intend to respond. At a minimum, I require at least one response per week.
- If you are no longer interested in the RP or something comes up and you can't respond, please try to give me a heads up.
- Third person, past tense writing.
- I can play either male or female characters, and my preference depends on the story we intend to write. Romantic pairings will only be m/f.
- The story doesn't need to be centered on romance, but I do like having romance somehow weaved into the plot!
- I am open to multiple genres. My favorite tends to be fantasy or supernatural, but I can do realistic/slice of life if the plot is interesting to me. I do not do fandoms.
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I am very flexible and open to ideas other than the ones below. We can either expand on these or come up with something entirely new that better fits both our interests. Or you can send me an idea that you have and are dying to write!
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