Eh, I'm stuck doing my phd while in lockdown and going slowly nuts, so why don't I try this again: 

Hello! Really really sorry for the people I have stopped rping with ugh, academia sucks out all your energy as I have found out over the years. But I'll work harder at being more communicative this time. Work got my butt kicked past few months, but now I'm craving again (also I need an awesome romance rp to distract me or I'll go mental, LOL). I'm on the casual-advanced level and have been around a while, been RPing on and off for several years. A few general things I look for in a partner:

* Must be on the same Rping level (High Casual, leaning towards Advanced)
* Because my RPs are on the mature side (language, themes, mature romance), partners must be 18+ 
* Willing to collaborate on world-building and plot-building
* Be open to romance (currently craving FxM, with me playing the F)
* Be open to playing more than one character should our rp call for it 

THE CONCEPT

Since time immemorial, each world has had its own champion, selected by fate, by gods or some other otherworldly force. On our Earth, we see them in our myths and legends, though we have relegated them to stories and fables, believing them to be figments of ancient imagination. In other worlds, they know, even revere, these champions. The Seers who appoint them call them Paladins. 

The Paladins could guess, but ultimately only the Seers really know what purpose is fulfilled when they select a Paladin for each world. When a Seer appears, they take the shape and form that makes the most sense to whoever could see them. Someone from Earth might see an androgynous person, garbed like a prophet. Someone from another world would see something else. Upon the Paladin they would bestow a Ring--some would call it magic, others would call it the ultimate feat of science--that would allow them to pierce the veil between worlds and amplify whatever latent magic or mutant ability they have. There is talk that  if each world is an alternate version of another, variations stretching to infinity, then the Paladins may be the same, different bodies and faces soul-bound to each other. They also whisper that the Seers could see the possibilities of futures branching out before them, and their selections have to do with trying to determine the best possible future of one world or many worlds. 

One such world is Amria, a world inhabited by humans who age slowly. Magic exists in limited capacity here, with many of their magical beings having left, disappeared, died, or hunted to extinction. Communities of "Off-Worlders" also exist; now and then, people from other worlds would end up here and be stuck here. The ruling empire is led by the line of royals called Wyverns. The current Empress, Akire, was thrust into the role when her parents and many of her family had been killed by a cataclysm called the Black Storm. Many suspect the freak Storm was created by accident by blood-mages, practicing a forbidden ritual for opening a portal. At a young age, the Empress had had to contend with putting duty over her own interests, a constant struggle made more difficult when, years later, she was visited by a Seer and given a Paladin Ring. Through this Ring she found out that the legend about her bloodline was true: the long-dormant dragonblood in her awoke, giving her superhuman strength, faster healing, and some instinct for detecting magical forces around her. 

On a totally different world, a world much like Earth but plagued by dimensional rifts, a young Earth woman named Akira was born with the strange awareness that the multiverse exists. To prevent hunters from killing her for some nefarious purpose, Akire rescued Akira from this world to live with her in Amria. Later on, a Seer reveals that she, too, has the makings of a Paladin and gives her her own Ring. The Ring gave her ferrokinesis, power over metal, and with the Seer's revelation confirming what the two women had suspected: that, somehow, they might be soul-bound, two versions of each other. Though she has come to regard Akire and her family as friends and her new family, she is always yearning for the normalcy that had been taken from her at a young age, and her beliefs and moral compass would sometimes clash strongly with the equally headstrong Akire, who was trained to be a warrior and to do whatever it took to be the protector of her empire and family. 


You are free to build on a world and character either of them could visit, and you're welcome to collaborate with me on a plot. It could be fantasy or sci fi, could be set in Amria or an Earth-variant. Your character could either be a native of the world who would help them in their quest or help them understand what is wrong in their world, or your character could possibly be another Paladin. As said previously, in some worlds (like Earth), Paladins are legend or don't seem to exist anymore, while in others the inhabitants are more aware of their existence (they don't necessarily have to always like the Paladins, haha.) 




[hider=Writing Sample]

When she opened her eyes, she was wearing armor on a clear day in the middle of a ring of hills. It had been cold, despite the sun shining full on her and her armor. On one hand she carried a long lance, on the other a shield. Her newly-forged sword hung from her belt. The Seers had sent her to another world for her first great quest. This world wasn’t too different from Amria, except it had seven moons, which she could still faintly see on the horizon. From the old stories about dragons back home, she figured that a lance was the proper weapon to deal with giant serpents. 

Then one of the hills stirred. 

The Bakunawa, the people of this world called it. Eater of moons, enemy of the sun. It was both everything she thought it would be, and none of these. As sunlight hit its large scales, it shone like a fire opal, many colors dancing on its serpentine body. Its head looked like a cross between an iguana and a viper, and its large eyes were black with red pinpricks for irises. She hadn’t realized she had been gawking at it for such a long time, because the dragon didn’t pay her any attention. Either it didn’t see her, or didn’t think much of her. She didn’t blame it; one by one, the hills shuddered to life, until the “ring” of hills transformed into its whole body. She remembered thinking she was going to die, because this was an impossible task. How many times had that thought occurred to her in her whole lifetime?

Without the benefit of wings, the dragon somehow lifted itself off the ground, the ground quaking as it pushed itself up. Forgetting her shield, Kire launched herself at it and drove her lance into its side to distract it and keep it on the ground. The dragon grunted and nudged its body, which was enough to knock her away from her lance. Kire landed in a painful heap, feeling like a discarded toy. All the dragon did was pluck the lance out with its teeth and toss it away, as if it was a thorn that irritated it. So much for the weapon of knights. 

Her new sword had more bite, she later discovered, after a couple more futile attempts to pierce its hide with the lance. The dragon, thankfully, was as clumsy as it was large, probably from sleeping for ten thousand years. At some point, she realized she could do more damage to its underbelly, but it came at the cost of almost getting roasted and a few more times getting tossed into the air. The “battle”, if one could call it that, had dragged on till midday. She used the Ring’s portals to avoid its attacks and confuse it, but she quickly learned that this maneuver was costly, sapping her strength much faster with each use. 

By afternoon, Kire had discarded her now-bloody armor, as the metal now obscured her vision and was crushing her middle from the dents it had taken. The dragon’s underbelly had many gashes in its side, dripping thick, viscous blood, but despite its many injuries the dragon was still in better shape than Kire was, and was determined to get off the ground. She knew she needed one big push, but she could barely stand: one eye was swollen shut, she felt like tenderized meat, and her left arm was all but useless now. She didn’t want to inspect herself; a shard of armor had been torn from her chestplate and was embedded somewhere in her left side. 

I can’t, she remembered thinking. How could one fight a dragon? It was practically a god on earth. A part of her, strangely, couldn’t bear to stab it again. There were no more dragons back in Amria, and here she was, supposedly descended from a dragon, herself, and she was making this one bleed. She had to remind herself that it was a harbinger of the apocalypse on this world, and sentiment was something she couldn’t afford at the moment.

She watched it rise slowly into the sky, its great reptile head pointing in the direction of the setting sun, and that was when she had her wildest idea. 

Kire channeled all her concentration into another portal and Jumped herself into the beast’s mouth. Before it could realize what was going on, she thrust her sword upward as deep into its flesh as she could manage, practically shoving her whole arm upward into the roof of its mouth. Immediately, bitter dragon-blood gushed from it, along with what she hoped was grey matter. She stabbed again and again, finding the softest, fleshiest points and pushing through, until she saw a bright, orange light from its gullet. Her eyes wide, she stumbled backwards as the dragon opened its mouth, and she fell backward. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! As she fell to earth, she watched the dragon arch towards her--or was it falling, too?--its maw open and dripping more blood, ready to spew flame, and she twisted, praying the Ring had enough power in it left for one last portal, her thoughts on home and safety.

The oddest thing was, she couldn’t remember how or when she had gotten the three large gashes. Was it right after she leaped out of its mouth, or did the dragon catch her with its teeth a second before the portal swallowed her? She did remember how it felt, though. 


[/hider]