lostlovesandmagic
New Member
Welcome to my search thread! I am 21+ and female. I have several years of roleplaying experience. Normally I write original characters and plots.
My minimum posting frequency is at least one response per week. However, some times life gets hectic and I fall behind. If I am unable to respond in a timely manner, I will let you know so that you're not left thinking I ghosted. I'd prefer if you could also let me know if you're ever delayed in responding. I don't mind waiting a few weeks to get the ball rolling again.
I have a tendency to write long responses, but that's also very dependent on you and what you send me. I have been known to exceed 1,000+ words a post. Though more regularly my responses average anywhere from 250-500 words. I believe in quality over quantity. I try to put substance in every post so you have something you can actually respond to.
Lastly, I'm open to a variety of settings, plots, and characters. I will write either male or female characters, but I prefer m/f romantic relationships.
RULES / EXPECTATIONS:
IDEAS:
Of Monsters & Men- She hunts monsters. He is a monster. She's sent on a mission to kill him, but it's a setup. Now they must work together.
The Witch & the Wolf- He was cursed with the form of a wolf. She has a secret she's desperate to keep: she's a witch. If anyone finds out, she will be burned at the stake. So they strike a bargain. She will help break his curse if he helps her to find a way to permanently get rid of her magic.
The Cursed Crown- She was never meant to be queen, but after her sister dies the king comes to claim her. Together they must stop a rebellion and deter a looming war.
The Devil & His Angel- He functions outside of the law. His dealings are dark and dangerous. Then she crosses his path.
* I love all things fantasy, magical, supernatural, and romance. Send me your ideas!
My minimum posting frequency is at least one response per week. However, some times life gets hectic and I fall behind. If I am unable to respond in a timely manner, I will let you know so that you're not left thinking I ghosted. I'd prefer if you could also let me know if you're ever delayed in responding. I don't mind waiting a few weeks to get the ball rolling again.
I have a tendency to write long responses, but that's also very dependent on you and what you send me. I have been known to exceed 1,000+ words a post. Though more regularly my responses average anywhere from 250-500 words. I believe in quality over quantity. I try to put substance in every post so you have something you can actually respond to.
Lastly, I'm open to a variety of settings, plots, and characters. I will write either male or female characters, but I prefer m/f romantic relationships.
RULES / EXPECTATIONS:
- You must be 18+. Please respect this.
- All main characters must be 18+.
- Third person, past tense writing.
- All RPs will take place over PMs.
- I need romance as a sub-plot, at the very least.
- Let me know how often you intend to respond.
- Please give me a heads up if you want to abandon the RP. I won't try to convince you to stay. It's just nice to know instead of waiting around for a response that will never come.
- Send me a PM if you want to write with me. Send me your ideas or we can brainstorm something new.
- I'd love it if you could send me a brief writing sample when you PM me.
IDEAS:
Of Monsters & Men- She hunts monsters. He is a monster. She's sent on a mission to kill him, but it's a setup. Now they must work together.
The Witch & the Wolf- He was cursed with the form of a wolf. She has a secret she's desperate to keep: she's a witch. If anyone finds out, she will be burned at the stake. So they strike a bargain. She will help break his curse if he helps her to find a way to permanently get rid of her magic.
The Cursed Crown- She was never meant to be queen, but after her sister dies the king comes to claim her. Together they must stop a rebellion and deter a looming war.
The Devil & His Angel- He functions outside of the law. His dealings are dark and dangerous. Then she crosses his path.
* I love all things fantasy, magical, supernatural, and romance. Send me your ideas!
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.
