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Fantasy ~Seeking Originality~ Need: Partner(s) to help develop an original story... (I need creativity buddies)

Whimstories

Unlucky Member
EM landscape (excluding characters).png
~Hello There~


I'm seeking a person (or people) to help build and create an original story! As stated above (or somewhere else) the genre would be fantasy themed, but that isn't limited to typical knights and dragons. It can be stretched to anything along the lines of otherworldly or mystical, etc. My main goal for this roleplay is to develop a world/story that we both (or all) create where we lean off of each other's ideas and creativity to imagine something completely new. In other words, that means storytelling, world-building, and character development. The only limitations are your imagination, and the possibilities are endless!
  • LGBTQIA+ friendly
  • Romance is allowed (but not required)
  • Plots/ideas are welcomed
  • Original characters are a must (and can be almost anything)
    • Even a magical talking box if you wish, lol
  • Writing style: Paragraph(s)
    • Detailed and Literate (if English isn't your first language you're still welcome to participate.)
  • 18+ ONLY
    • More so for the safety of minors and not so much for the context of the roles
  • Some experience would be nice
  • If you have an questions feel free to ask!
I hope you decide to join me, I'd love to see what you have to offer! The prompt below helps give me an idea of your writing style, and so that others can see it as well.

If you'd like to join describe a red wagon.
(We can go from there ^-^)​
 

Murdergurl

will turn your insides into your outsides
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)
Splintered, aged from days of disuse in the sun. Its paint was chipped and faded, peeling away from rusted metal. Once, it was a child's plaything. Now, it lay broken and discarded in the dirt. A red wagon, alone and forgotten as it had outgrown its usefulness. It was a testament to life, to growth. To the human condition of shedding our old lives and old things. Our pasts, like the wagon, are crumbling remnants in our wake.


Hope that suffices. I don't image you want me to drop 500 words of descriptive purple prose about a wagon. So I just took a literal minute to put that together. But if you want more... elaborate writing samples, I do have some saved. Just ask.

That being said, I have an interest in a medieval fantasy world if I would be allowed to play my Goblin Beast Rider. I have a stand-alone setting for her that can easily be dropped into whatever setting you have going on. All I need is a corner of your world and she's a tiny little puzzle piece to fit into it.

Khortja Gorgutz-portrait (8) (1) (1) (1) (1).png
I'm definitely over 18 (more than twice that, actually)
And I write in multi-para form, highly detailed posts.
I ONLY RP as Original Characters. So no issues there.
As far as experience, I've been rping online for the better part of 25 years.
My preference is group RP. In fact, on places like RPN, I only do group RP (no 1x1s)
And I'm more than happy to contribute to plotting once we get a group of individuals gathered.
 

Murdergurl

will turn your insides into your outsides
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)
Whimstories Whimstories I forgot to mention, my DMs are closed. So just @me or reply to messages on the forums to get back to me.
 

Whimstories

Unlucky Member
Splintered, aged from days of disuse in the sun. Its paint was chipped and faded, peeling away from rusted metal. Once, it was a child's plaything. Now, it lay broken and discarded in the dirt. A red wagon, alone and forgotten as it had outgrown its usefulness. It was a testament to life, to growth. To the human condition of shedding our old lives and old things. Our pasts, like the wagon, are crumbling remnants in our wake.


Hope that suffices. I don't image you want me to drop 500 words of descriptive purple prose about a wagon. So I just took a literal minute to put that together. But if you want more... elaborate writing samples, I do have some saved. Just ask.

That being said, I have an interest in a medieval fantasy world if I would be allowed to play my Goblin Beast Rider. I have a stand-alone setting for her that can easily be dropped into whatever setting you have going on. All I need is a corner of your world and she's a tiny little puzzle piece to fit into it.

View attachment 1060408
I'm definitely over 18 (more than twice that, actually)
And I write in multi-para form, highly detailed posts.
I ONLY RP as Original Characters. So no issues there.
As far as experience, I've been rping online for the better part of 25 years.
My preference is group RP. In fact, on places like RPN, I only do group RP (no 1x1s)
And I'm more than happy to contribute to plotting once we get a group of individuals gathered.
It's a pleasure to meet you, and thanks for taking an interest in my role! I appreciate you taking the time to respond and loved your description! The post is still fairly new so not many responses thus far. But I'm excited to see where the road may lead!
 

Murdergurl

will turn your insides into your outsides
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)
It's a pleasure to meet you, and thanks for taking an interest in my role! I appreciate you taking the time to respond and loved your description! The post is still fairly new so not many responses thus far. But I'm excited to see where the road may lead!
yeah, sometimes it takes a bit to gather interest. No worries though, I'm sure people will turn up with their ideas and/or characters. I have some setting ideas. myself. But I'll wait until we have a crowd.
 
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There was only me and my rocket ship now. Not a real rocket ship mind you, but I'd been calling it that for as long as I've had it. It was a wagon that had seen better days. Every wheel had been broken and replaced with whatever I found that worked, sometimes bicycle wheels, sometimes plastic ones that came with those push cars preschool kids rode around in. I've used paint, stickers, berries anything really to cover up the dents and chips in the body, the logo on the side long gone. The bar at the front had been bent so I had to pull it in a certain way whenever I wanted it to move and the handle was a small chain and lock I'd managed to attach. This was my rocket ship...and that summer it took me to the moon.
 

InTheSea

Adv. / Lit. / Multi-Para
Supporter
Roleplay Type(s)

Red and black iron, raw and stained wood, black, bumpy rubber wheels.

It seems so simple, a red wagon.

Blink.

Suddenly, it’s a sled, a toboggan, racing down an icy track, twisting and turning through blinding snow. They squint through their helmets, shifting their weight in unison. A crowd is cheering, ringing in the ears of the combatants as they strive to achieve the gold medal of victory. They are so close, so close for taking the gold for their country!

Blink.

A serious voice crackles over the radio. “We are ready for take off.” The astronauts brace themselves, hearts pounding in their chest. They check readings on monitors, eyes flicking from section to section of the control panel. “T minus ten seconds.” The countdown pulls through eternity, sweat beading on the foreheads of the explorers. It could all go wrong. But it must go right. “Three, two, one…” WHOOSH! The rocket trembles as it lifts into the air, blazing jets shooting it slowly into the sky, then faster and faster it picks up speed. “We have lift off!”

Blink.

The galloping of hooves sounds around the carriage. “Heeya!” The sheriff of the Wild West drives the horses on after the evil gang of bandits. They were thieving from the local towns, causing havoc and mayhem, and the sheriff was going to stop them with all they had. Dust kicks up around the carriage, the horses panting from fatigue. But they couldn’t stop. They were so close. It was the sheriffs duty to protect their people!

Blink.

“It’s time to come in!” A feminine voice sounds from a grey brick house nearby. The child sits up in the wagon, covered in dirt and wears an expression of disbelief on their face.
“Aww mom! I’m trying to catch the bandits!” The child holds up a plastic horse in one hand, a cowboy doll in the other. “I can’t come in yet!”
“Can’t catch the bandits on an empty stomach! You can think about how the next episode ends.”
Her face is kind as she holds out her hand to the little one.
“We almost had them!” The child exits the small red wagon and runs over to their mother. They disappear through a black door, their voices muffled as it closes.

The little red wagon is left behind. Its paint is scuffed, the wood chipped, gouged and splintered. One wheel is slightly deflated and in need of some air. It’s well loved, having been through a thousand lifetimes in the five years it’s been in the hands of the child. And it will live a thousand more.

It’s not just a wagon.


Hi there! It's been a hot minute since I rped; kinda rusty. I'm in my 30's, I write multi-para, as detailed as I can. OG chars are lovely ^_^ I've been rping online since late 2001. I prefer small groups to rp with (3-6, as I get a little overwhelmed with a lot of people). Hope we can make something fun together!
 

Whimstories

Unlucky Member
There was only me and my rocket ship now. Not a real rocket ship mind you, but I'd been calling it that for as long as I've had it. It was a wagon that had seen better days. Every wheel had been broken and replaced with whatever I found that worked, sometimes bicycle wheels, sometimes plastic ones that came with those push cars preschool kids rode around in. I've used paint, stickers, berries anything really to cover up the dents and chips in the body, the logo on the side long gone. The bar at the front had been bent so I had to pull it in a certain way whenever I wanted it to move and the handle was a small chain and lock I'd managed to attach. This was my rocket ship...and that summer it took me to the moon.
Thanks for taking the time to respond to my post! I loved your description and can't wait to start rolling soon!
 

Whimstories

Unlucky Member

Red and black iron, raw and stained wood, black, bumpy rubber wheels.

It seems so simple, a red wagon.

Blink.

Suddenly, it’s a sled, a toboggan, racing down an icy track, twisting and turning through blinding snow. They squint through their helmets, shifting their weight in unison. A crowd is cheering, ringing in the ears of the combatants as they strive to achieve the gold medal of victory. They are so close, so close for taking the gold for their country!

Blink.

A serious voice crackles over the radio. “We are ready for take off.” The astronauts brace themselves, hearts pounding in their chest. They check readings on monitors, eyes flicking from section to section of the control panel. “T minus ten seconds.” The countdown pulls through eternity, sweat beading on the foreheads of the explorers. It could all go wrong. But it must go right. “Three, two, one…” WHOOSH! The rocket trembles as it lifts into the air, blazing jets shooting it slowly into the sky, then faster and faster it picks up speed. “We have lift off!”

Blink.

The galloping of hooves sounds around the carriage. “Heeya!” The sheriff of the Wild West drives the horses on after the evil gang of bandits. They were thieving from the local towns, causing havoc and mayhem, and the sheriff was going to stop them with all they had. Dust kicks up around the carriage, the horses panting from fatigue. But they couldn’t stop. They were so close. It was the sheriffs duty to protect their people!

Blink.

“It’s time to come in!” A feminine voice sounds from a grey brick house nearby. The child sits up in the wagon, covered in dirt and wears an expression of disbelief on their face.
“Aww mom! I’m trying to catch the bandits!” The child holds up a plastic horse in one hand, a cowboy doll in the other. “I can’t come in yet!”
“Can’t catch the bandits on an empty stomach! You can think about how the next episode ends.”
Her face is kind as she holds out her hand to the little one.
“We almost had them!” The child exits the small red wagon and runs over to their mother. They disappear through a black door, their voices muffled as it closes.

The little red wagon is left behind. Its paint is scuffed, the wood chipped, gouged and splintered. One wheel is slightly deflated and in need of some air. It’s well loved, having been through a thousand lifetimes in the five years it’s been in the hands of the child. And it will live a thousand more.

It’s not just a wagon.


Hi there! It's been a hot minute since I rped; kinda rusty. I'm in my 30's, I write multi-para, as detailed as I can. OG chars are lovely ^_^ I've been rping online since late 2001. I prefer small groups to rp with (3-6, as I get a little overwhelmed with a lot of people). Hope we can make something fun together!
This. Is. Beautiful. It's so thought out and I love it! Reading all the different scenarios made my heart warm. I'm really looking forward to rolling with you!
 

LuckyDubs

Claims Medic
"You want me to sell you a red wagon?" I stared at the sales manager, hoping he would chuckle and tell me he's joking. His response was a simple gesture of a hand for me to begin as he leaned back in his expensive ergonomic chair. I barely have experience convincing people to buy actually good products, let alone pushing some old-school toy or whatever on a modern consumer. As I saw his gaze stick on me, examining my reaction, probably laughing at my expense on the inside, I fidgeted in the budget folding chair. Was this thing made to be uncomfortable on purpose? Was this some kind of power play?

I sat up straight as I can, my natural posture doing me no favors in winning over this mid-50s or so gentleman. He watched me with piercing green eyes, expectantly. Expecting me to fumble over the words on how to sell someone a red wagon in a marketing gig. How would I sell a red wagon to this man? How would anyone sell a red wagon to anyone?

He inhaled sharply. A needle prick of anticipation, waiting for him to exhale before I began. Was he holding his breath? Do I start now or after he breathes?

"I, uhh--" I noticed his brow tighten, as if I interrupted his plan just as well as my own anxious line of thought. "Well, I'll begin. Are you in the market for a red wagon?"

"No."

Crap. Seriously? I guess if he wanted to buy one I wouldn't have to push.

"I imagine most of us aren't-- in the market for a red wagon, I mean. Radio Flyer has been out for decades, I imagine, and some things are too simple to really improve on. There's knock-offs, sure, but why get the flimsy sheet metal and cheap plastic wheels when you could have folded steel and actual rubber tires? Heck, I know there are some out there that have folding handles, little canopies, or emergency brakes."

The man in the pricey-cheap suit made a face of some consideration, nodding along. Yet I'm talking about some other brand, one that this company would never have to advertise or sell directly. Especially on an industrial level.

"So. . . why would all that matter to you? I mean, those options are great, and the model is tried and true. I can't deliver on better quality, I can't even deliver on trusted experience that many families already have with Radio Flyer and their signature red wagon. But what if I can promise a story? Not like that of a fairy tale, but a life. A vision turned mission.

"I can see you have grandkids," I offered a hand to a framed picture on the man's desk, one of himself with his presumed son and grandson. "I'm barely of age to have my own kids, I think, let alone reach your status. But let me tell you a little about myself. I loved my grandparents. My dad was busy, and my mom wasn't there. So my dad's dad took care of me most of my childhood. My real dad, in a sense. I remember playing in the backyard, plastic playground set that you always see in upper-middle class homes. I was actually a fan of Tonka trucks, you know those construction vehicles that you could carry some serious dirt in? Well, as big and sturdy as they were, they weren't easy to push around the length of a yard so many times a day. Even as a kid, my back would get sore. Wish that's all that would take these days, right?" I gave a slight chuckle. I caught myself here, mentally checking in as I realized the sincerity of my story. Looking at the man across from me, I could tell he was invested.

"Now, something you gotta understand about my grandfather. He was a handyman. I'd say, maybe a carpenter. Real good with his hands. He saw me struggling out there for a few days in the summer once, I was about seven or eight. Thought I saw him go out to his shop and crafted me a whole wagon out of wood. I mean, not the wheels, he must've went out and bought the axel and wheels, then stripped a spare tire for its rubber and slapped them on. Finished the wood. Painted it up real nice, two coats of red paint or so. Attached a long wooden handle on a pivot, long enough for my grubby little arms to grow into. On the sides it read, The Long Haul in white paint. Handcrafted beauty. Let me move piles of rocks with less effort and minimal fatigue.

"My adventures with it includes going out into the woods, gathering nuts and acorns, found one of those abandoned wasp nests once. This wagon was my transporter of cool and precious things. One day, tail-end of summer, my dad came to pick me up. Stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the wagon. Thought it was a bad thing at first, worried I did something wrong. He just smiled at me with misty eyes and said that was his old wagon, apparently made and fixed up by his dad when he was a kid. He asked me what all I got up to with the wagon, and I shared the places I went, the things I hauled. I didn't know it at the time, but we were sharing a legacy. A toy to me, then, but a core piece of my fond memories that finally connected my dad to me and my granddad.

"So I guess that's all to say, it's more than a tool. It is a vehicle. A companion. And if I could share that red wagon with you and your grandkids, what stories would they share with others? How would they describe a red wagon?"
 

II-CinderRadcliff-II

Kitsune of the North
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)
Ambiance. It was one of the few pleasures that Evalynn rarely had time for - a pleasure she could afford to indulge after weeks of intense schedules and paperwork. The foliage of the forest showed signs of recovery from the winter snow, as the summer months grew closer the bitter cold gnawing seemed to backpedal towards the arctic circle. The flutter of birds darting between the trees caught her attention briefly, only for her eyes to stumble across a rusted red... something. It was hard to distinguish from a distance. Her feet cautiously carried her off of the forest trail towards, the snow and withered leaves of the forest floor rustling and crunching beneath her weight. Despite the short distance it became more of a trudge than a simple stroll, but upon reaching her focus' fixation she kneeled down and grabbed one of the edges. As she gradually dislodged the object from beneath the snow it became apparent that it was just a wagon, but a strong gut feeling started mounting - compelling her to continue searching the area. She stood up to ponder how much longer she should desecrate the serenity the forest provided, with the tumbling snow inside of the wagon pushing something vibrantly colored out with it. The subtle noise it made drew her attention once more, and as she knelt back down a brief cold gust of wind blew some of the snow off of it. The wind took with it some of the snow covering what tumbled out of the wagon, revealing a plastic container of candy. Her eyebrow now raised, she sifted her hands through the rest of the wagon while clearing the rest of the snow out of it, finding various articles of clothing alongside a blanket and a bag.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as her muscles tensed, seeing two different IDs inside of a bag containing various packaged foods and other essentials. Her hands dropped the abandoned belongings as worry began to set in, one of her hands reaching for her phone before calling the authorities. She hastily made her way back to the trail and stuck around close to the site of the wagon, awaiting for their - . She felt a brief jolt on the back of her neck before falling unconscious, a figure holding a baseball bat behind her. As the figure wandered back to the wagon, they paused for a second to look back at Evalynn... If fate wanted it to be, he'd have his chance another day. Item by item was loaded back up into the wagon, with a bloodied knife and shovel not too far away from where she had been searching. With a mesh tied over the wagon the figure lifted the metal object into his shoulders, leaving an anonymous printed note in the snow behind him before wandering back into serenity - leaving no trace of their presence behind for the police to investigate.



Hey, I hope you don't mind if I join in as well. I can write a good story, but I do specialize in World-Building
 

Murdergurl

will turn your insides into your outsides
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)
Right, so... worldbuilding flex time.
I love maps. I've made them for a lot of peeps, mostly on Discord groups. But a couple of times outside of that venue as well. I used to do them by hand until I found mapmaking programs online.
Here's a few of my faves.
komino-2-0.png
ostgron.png

obsoul.png
West-2.png

New-map-copy-1.jpg

Grizzbane-Cave-2.png
Oss-rland.jpg
And don't think that these are just maps for map's sake.
They all have defined points of interest. That last one in particular has over 70 defined locations in it.

So Whimstories Whimstories , now that you have a small group gathered around your campfire, what kinda leads did you have for us to work with? I'm sure we're all rarin' ta go, yeah? It's your world, we're just building in it. ;-)

(also, I claim dibs on any goblin lore! lol)
 
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Hiuly of Starmoon

Hey! How's it going?
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)
Okay, so for anyone who’s (still) interested, the ooc chat is up!

 

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