I've birthed so many bunnies that I think my warren may explode. So many potential ideas, I think I need help... Here they exist in no particular order, with a cursory once over for grammar and spelling. These are the raw ideas, (as I would spend way too much time making them presentable and therefore lose hope, to eventually let them rot on my hard-drive for a few more years.) I have interest in something as simple as another person picking a character (or making a new one) and jumping off into the deep end with just the concepts, [s]with the exception of two (and you will know which two, trust me)[/s] (not yet posted). Maybe, you only liked [u]one line[/u]! Tell me what it was and we can try something entirely dependent on that. :) Maybe you had NO idea what was going on...then just skip it. :P You won't hurt my feelings. Some of these bunnies may have been dead for a good reason. Some of these were stright-up RP characters, some were Nation starters, and some are short stories I never finished but don't want to leave alone. Take a look, comment or PM, anything. I just hate to sit on old stuff forever. Maybe you have a wandering established character you would like to insert into any of these ideas. Really, anything. The only bad response is no response. I just want to play (hard or soft, causal or hard-core, anything. [i]For Real[/i]) NEWEST: #5 [hider=Star Wars: Qui-Gon and Obi Wan, Jango Fett. Mercenary RP, all ages]Counterbalance: A Star Wars Story On his first official assignment after his apprenticeship, Obi-Wan endures a successful mind wipe on the planet Phindar. Shipped to Nar Shadda, he must learn to survive without his Jedi training. Years later, QuiGon and Dooku are sent on a mission to Naboo where the prelude to war has already begun. After an attempt on King Vurena's life, Qui-Gon catches a glimpse of a ginger haired bounty hunter with familiar eyes. Little known to him, his former padawan had become the adoptive son of Jango Fett. Now known simply as Ben, he has developed into a successful mercenary. As fate ensues, both Knight and Bounty Hunter must bring about balance to the Force. [/hider] [center]--------------[/center] 1. [Hider=Locke (Fantasy, or lite-Fantasy Historical. Era-Medieval) 1x1 Char or Nation]Locke Nothing is more troublesome then the art of deception, with the exception of finding ways to deal with it. Magnificent tapestries arrayed themselves in calculated displays, perhaps trying to bleach the desolation that surrounded the antique keep from the inhabitant’s memory. Despite their efforts nothing could remove the wind that echoed through the halls, the faces on the tapestries fluttered in mock life pushed along by the unforgiving elements. As one entered, the cloth faces seemed to follow, observing the scuttling men and woman below with a detached amusement. Their faces displayed a time of fruitfulness and valor that had once graced the land of Eleon, however as one moved through the history it began to betray the desolation that settled beyond its walls. The gaze of the greedy looked upon the land as a path to endless riches and the game of deception grew in abundance. A worn brown face looked down at the men gathered below him and his sigh echoed through the vast chamber, gray eyes looking into the faces of his forefathers stitched before him and he prayed to the Gods to grant him peace. However, as merciless as the terrain surrounding, the God’s looked on with stone faces and granted him nothing. Gnarled hands trace the lines of his iron sword and his mind played with the idea of ending the lives of the deceivers at this moment, however he could feel the God’s frown and he resisted the urge. With a sigh, he glanced down at the next dubious fellow to ask for the only thing of value in the land of Eleon. Notes: Eleon has been plagued by these small mind-control worms (think Star Trek: Wrath of Khan.) Of course, evil people want to take them and use them for nefarious uses. But, Locke has a guilty moral streak and has decided to protect the world from the potential evil that the worms could cause. [/hider] 2. [Hider=Character: Aaron, Pretty basic. Medieval. 1x1 ] Name: Aaron Luthor Gender: Male Age: 39 Race: Human Appearance: 5' 11", olive skin tanned dark brown from long days under the sun. He stands slightly stooped and favors his left leg, a phantom limp from an incident healed ten years ago. Aaron's brown hair is below his shoulder blades on the rare occasion he lets it down in public. He keeps his hair in a knot at the nape of his neck of religious reasons. His midsection has softened and mushroomed slightly over his belt, but his shoulders are still broad and his weathered hands are proof of his past life in the fields. He wears fitted brown pants and a black shirt. The scarf around his neck was made by his wife and is purple to compliment his brown eyes. History: Aaron owned a farm and had a small family of four; a wife, two sons and no daughters. The farm grew feed for horses and he and his young sons, one of five and the other seven, tended to the crops alone without additional farm hands. The small city two miles from his home knew him well and he sold his feed to the city officials and merchant men for their horses. But as the sky darkened, his farm began to diminish and the crops stopped yielding. His family died from a sickness brought on from sun deprivation and now he travels, unknowing why he alone lived and forever guilty for being spared. He looks for work and shelter but can't quite settle down before he has to start running away again. [/hider] 3. Now, beware of rambling. This one is more of a stream consciousnesses for a potential plot... [hider=Gad, MxM 1X1 or Nation, Medieval. Interest in Society Construction] A society where the bonding of two heads of the family is not expressed though the bearing or giving of children. This can happen between any two persons, no matter the gender or sexuality of each head of family involved. In fact, the people who end up giving into desire are considered weak and disgraced. In order to be the head of a family, one must become celibate. The idea that people who are to look out for the lives of others must be fully fixated on the needs of others. The most common relationship that extends to bonding is one of economics and trust, long time friends who are able to keep look out on the others back. The need for heads of the households to become bonded stems from a basic economic business structure and the necessity to create new product. Within this structure, one family member from each head of house must be the mouth piece within the other’s halls. They would travel between the two places at regular intervals to insure that communication was persistent between the two heads of houses. As well, the two Runners were to meet together without the influence of either head of house and produce a report. The same must happen between the heads of houses. These reports would be given to the public through a yearly mandatory speech. The Runners stand in front of the gathered members of both houses. The heads of the houses sit at the back of the their groups, elevated and looking directly at the Runners. Often, the heads of houses will sit next to each other at the end of the aisle between the two. It is often speculated that the closer the distance between the two during this event the closer the bond. The Runner from the opposite family reads each report to the members of that family. Gad was the head of his house, a jeweler who worked elusively with braided metals. His bond mate was Louis, a coal miner who by extension created and maintained the blacksmiths that Gad’s family worked in. Think about tools so large that they leave them entombed within the places that they were needed. It was too much work or money to get the thing out from the tunnel so they asked it to create its own tomb. What if the being was sentient and know that the beginning of it’s usefulness would also be the ending of its life. Literally making a path to your own tomb. [/Hider] 4. This next one really needs to have at least one irl male player (as I am female). It needs to ride a line: to not bash any particular sex or gender but to point out the flaws of all sides. This one is a pet project that need not be taken personally seriously. I WILL be exploring subjective ideas, during the course of which (if I have an interested party or parties) should NEVER be taken as a personal attack. This one I require a person to be over 18, if only for the fact that I want to look at ideas that may not have yet been experienced or explored in a person under such age. I'm 27, by no means a time-tested adult, but I've been in society for long enough to really want to explore. {So, potential trigger warnings?} If I were to find a few players, we would do initial play in private and then "publish" it in chunks here publicly once we are comfortable. (Think how Hulu used to wait 8 days after an episode aired on Network Television to make it available to stream on their site.) [Hider=Fishermen: Modern, M to 18+, Brother+Sister, Female Narrator, Social Commentary] I’ve seen this man too many times. He travels from table to table like a drunken panther. He is sleek in his black coat and his smile is almost pleasant, if it weren’t for the slick gloss coat of whiskey that smears across his lips whenever he licks them. The hunting hours start at 5pm each Monday, Wednesday and Friday when he orders a water and whiskey and sour. He compliments the wait staff: a comment about my shade of lipstick, an appreciative once over of Marcus’ choice in over coat. Next comes the steady sitting at table 4 near the door, sipping from his glass. I avoid catching his eyes when I buss past him, keeping my gaze trained on the wet path my towel makes as I clear tables. Women never approach him, but they appear to appreciate his initial company when he slides down next to them at the bar. They are charmed; he is aggressive in a lion-like manner with his smooth brown mane and he uses words like “miss” and “young lady”. I see him leave with a variety of personalities, both short leather skirts and pleated blossom blouses; woman who look easy and woman who make him do paces to appease their pride. I know, and have witnessed, that some men bring black nights to women who should have expected as much, at least in this place and places like it. But, each of his one night ladies always come back. And they are never wounded more than they are in pride when he steps off with another who is not them. He’s the cleanest sleaze I’ve seen. He came alone at first for three months, until recently. A woman follows in with hair as brown as his and a mirror tilt to her smile that only comes from shared parentage. She names herself Karen, his sister, and sits down at the end of the bar to pester me with tales of her brother, one embarrassing snippet to cut him down every time he slicks his way into another woman. I have trouble understanding them, together and related. When he comes over to speak to her, he stands away to her left. If there was anyone who at this bar who shifts to timid and wounded, it is him when he sees her. Later, I learn they are partners. She is the fisher-woman and he is the bait. The tab, a combination of his, Karen’s, and his night woman’s drinks, is paid by the sister. She leaves a size-able tip that sweetens our wariness but doesn’t take the edge off of the fake-ness of her smile. I used to believe she was a feminist, with her brashness and take no prisoners attitude. But now I know she’s an asshole, nondiscriminatory in her prejudices and with a raw ability to find flaws in even the most agreeable people that walk through our doors. Some nights I want to lean over and slap her. But sometimes (often more then I’d like to admit) she’s more right than most. ‘Women, as much as men,’ she tells me, ‘perpetuate sexism. This is why I have to be such as asshole,’ she leans over close to me, ‘to smack the prissiness out of them. Men get called misogynistic, but I have the ‘get out of jail free’ card.’ She points down to her pants. ‘My vagina.’ I think she’s hateful and sour, but I get paid to give her drinks and for all her words she doesn’t create trouble or pester us when we’re busy. When I first witnessed her brother, Bruce, talk a woman into sleeping with him I thought he was the asshole. But when juxtaposed to his sister, his smile at least shows an honesty when he talks to them. He has a twenty-first century romanticism about him, built around phones with names attached to numbers he’ll never have to try to remember. A one night wonder man, transparent. [/hider] ..............And more to come! As, I am brushing the dust off my old hordes.