I'm craving some dark, slightly twisted long-term 1x1 partners. I have a few beginnings of plot ideas down below. Let me know what you would like to do.
Please PM me or tag me in the post so I see you!
I want something that is mature (18+) partner and MxF, my partner will have to play the male character as I am female, and I suck at main male character development. I have tried it and I’m not very good at it.
I’m a strong casual writer anywhere between two detailed paragraphs to five, sometimes ten if the mood strikes me. If my partner chooses to post more than fine just keep in mind that I will only be posting two to five most of the time.
PLEASE have decent spelling and grammar, I'm not a grammar-Nazis and I'm for sure as hell not the best speller in the world, but try to make some sense when writing.
Please don't just drop me off into a vat of cyber-darkness. If I don't reply to you within five days message me, heck! Message me in two. I, like most people, am human and have the attention span of a squirrel. I will do the same for you.
I'm thinking no fading romance scenes, so if you are a "fade to black" type of writer, sorry. I like to think as my RPs of some sort of reality, in which people have sex as well as slicing off limbs and jugulars. Graphic definitely! So that is the reason for +18.
I’m a strong casual writer anywhere between two detailed paragraphs to five, sometimes ten if the mood strikes me. If my partner chooses to post more than fine just keep in mind that I will only be posting two to five most of the time.
PLEASE have decent spelling and grammar, I'm not a grammar-Nazis and I'm for sure as hell not the best speller in the world, but try to make some sense when writing.
Please don't just drop me off into a vat of cyber-darkness. If I don't reply to you within five days message me, heck! Message me in two. I, like most people, am human and have the attention span of a squirrel. I will do the same for you.
I'm thinking no fading romance scenes, so if you are a "fade to black" type of writer, sorry. I like to think as my RPs of some sort of reality, in which people have sex as well as slicing off limbs and jugulars. Graphic definitely! So that is the reason for +18.
Rain fell down from the dark, cloudless sky, splatting on the ground to be collected in the crevices of the stone roads. Occasionally, the clouds would move to display the full moon, however, it wasn’t enough light for the women standing about the Covent Gardens with their skirts tucked up just so to reveal their status as prostitutes. With the fancy men hidden just a few feet away, the girls were expected to bring income to the brothel. The year was 1891 during the month of February, and Rhoslyn Smith was one of those women.
Rhoslyn was fortunate tonight as she got to stay in the warmth of brothel that posed as a pub, cooking for the patrons and sailors before tailoring to their ‘needs’ afterward. Her hair was the color of fresh white snow and her skin none too darker. Rhoslyn had no choice to be the gay woman many wives feared their husbands ran too in the middle of the night. Her parents feared the debt collector that also owned the brothel Rhoslyn worked in, so they sent her at the tender age of fourteen to apprentice under Mistress Henrietta, the brothel’s oldest and toughest prostitute. She was broad-shouldered and sported ratty blonde hair that had slivers of grey in a bun.
Henrietta was a woman no woman or man wanted to mess with when fired up, she protected her girls with a passion. Rhoslyn admired Henrietta for her German spite and strong attitude that she, herself did not possess. Rhoslyn was a meek, shy young lady who couldn’t hurt a spider, much less a fly.
Clearing her throat, Henrietta caught Rhoslyn’s attention. Rhoslyn smiled softly, her bright blue eyes of twenty years waiting for what the older woman had to say.
“Rhoslyn, a few ladies are late from walking the area around the theatre a few blocks over. I would like you to go and check on them.” Henrietta said as the German accent was still prominent despite the decades she has lived in London.
Rhoslyn paled considerably and nodded. “Y-yes, Miss Henrietta.” She replied before fetching her coat and parasol in a slow manner. The string of murders had left the East End in quite a panic, especially on nights like this night. The press had dubbed the murderer Jack the Ripper.
The meek young lady exited the warm brothel to search for the missing women. The rain still poured down as the cool winter winds of February chilled Rhoslyn to her core. The coat she was wearing was plenty warm but something was telling the young woman that she should turn back and go home. No, no, Henrietta trusted her to do this. It was just a quick check up on some of the girls Rhoslyn grew up with.
And with that burst of confidence, the wind blew a strong gust of air, carrying her parasol away. Rhoslyn wrapped her arms around herself, hoping that this action would provide some sort of protection she so desperately wanted. She checked in the alleys in between the buildings for her friends but noticed that they were gone. With the conclusion of them finding work, Rhoslyn turned around to head back to the brothel.
A strange feeling washed over the young woman as she paused to glance about the street. She didn’t see any mysterious figures in the dark rain. Trying to shrug off the feeling, she continued on her way back to safety. Rhoslyn stopped in her tracks a man stood facing her on the corner of the street. His facial features obscured by the rain and moonless night. All Rhoslyn could tell was that he was wearing a top hat and a tailcoat of some kind.
Rhoslyn slowly backed up, but when she did he would take steps forward, prompting the girl to turn and run. The rainwater had soaked Rhoslyn to her petite coats, the thickness of the dress material itself weighed her down. Her shoes splashed against the wet walkways as she heard the footsteps of the man behind her catching up to her. Fear struck Rhoslyn’s heart as she didn’t want to be near such a creepy in case that he was Jack the Ripper.
Rhoslyn tripped on a stone that was raised from the path, sending her forward onto the ground. Her forehead had met contact with the stones as well causing ringing and confusion throughout her head. The man, the source of Rhoslyn’s current fear, neared closer and closer, reminding her to get up and run. But it was too late, the man grabbed her by the elbow, pulled her close to him. Rhoslyn shut her eyes tight, ready to feel the sharp puncture of a blade to slice her body.
Nothing happened, Rhoslyn opened her eyes to see that the man had pulled her into an alleyway. Now up close, she saw that he was rather handsome and about her age. They both smiled at each other as he went to hand her parasol. Suddenly, from behind the man, his head was lobbed with a swift cut of a butcher’s cleaver as her stomach was stabbed by the metal tip of her umbrella. The attacker just turned from where he came, whispering with an amused smile.
“For Landcaster.”
Rhoslyn was fortunate tonight as she got to stay in the warmth of brothel that posed as a pub, cooking for the patrons and sailors before tailoring to their ‘needs’ afterward. Her hair was the color of fresh white snow and her skin none too darker. Rhoslyn had no choice to be the gay woman many wives feared their husbands ran too in the middle of the night. Her parents feared the debt collector that also owned the brothel Rhoslyn worked in, so they sent her at the tender age of fourteen to apprentice under Mistress Henrietta, the brothel’s oldest and toughest prostitute. She was broad-shouldered and sported ratty blonde hair that had slivers of grey in a bun.
Henrietta was a woman no woman or man wanted to mess with when fired up, she protected her girls with a passion. Rhoslyn admired Henrietta for her German spite and strong attitude that she, herself did not possess. Rhoslyn was a meek, shy young lady who couldn’t hurt a spider, much less a fly.
Clearing her throat, Henrietta caught Rhoslyn’s attention. Rhoslyn smiled softly, her bright blue eyes of twenty years waiting for what the older woman had to say.
“Rhoslyn, a few ladies are late from walking the area around the theatre a few blocks over. I would like you to go and check on them.” Henrietta said as the German accent was still prominent despite the decades she has lived in London.
Rhoslyn paled considerably and nodded. “Y-yes, Miss Henrietta.” She replied before fetching her coat and parasol in a slow manner. The string of murders had left the East End in quite a panic, especially on nights like this night. The press had dubbed the murderer Jack the Ripper.
The meek young lady exited the warm brothel to search for the missing women. The rain still poured down as the cool winter winds of February chilled Rhoslyn to her core. The coat she was wearing was plenty warm but something was telling the young woman that she should turn back and go home. No, no, Henrietta trusted her to do this. It was just a quick check up on some of the girls Rhoslyn grew up with.
And with that burst of confidence, the wind blew a strong gust of air, carrying her parasol away. Rhoslyn wrapped her arms around herself, hoping that this action would provide some sort of protection she so desperately wanted. She checked in the alleys in between the buildings for her friends but noticed that they were gone. With the conclusion of them finding work, Rhoslyn turned around to head back to the brothel.
A strange feeling washed over the young woman as she paused to glance about the street. She didn’t see any mysterious figures in the dark rain. Trying to shrug off the feeling, she continued on her way back to safety. Rhoslyn stopped in her tracks a man stood facing her on the corner of the street. His facial features obscured by the rain and moonless night. All Rhoslyn could tell was that he was wearing a top hat and a tailcoat of some kind.
Rhoslyn slowly backed up, but when she did he would take steps forward, prompting the girl to turn and run. The rainwater had soaked Rhoslyn to her petite coats, the thickness of the dress material itself weighed her down. Her shoes splashed against the wet walkways as she heard the footsteps of the man behind her catching up to her. Fear struck Rhoslyn’s heart as she didn’t want to be near such a creepy in case that he was Jack the Ripper.
Rhoslyn tripped on a stone that was raised from the path, sending her forward onto the ground. Her forehead had met contact with the stones as well causing ringing and confusion throughout her head. The man, the source of Rhoslyn’s current fear, neared closer and closer, reminding her to get up and run. But it was too late, the man grabbed her by the elbow, pulled her close to him. Rhoslyn shut her eyes tight, ready to feel the sharp puncture of a blade to slice her body.
Nothing happened, Rhoslyn opened her eyes to see that the man had pulled her into an alleyway. Now up close, she saw that he was rather handsome and about her age. They both smiled at each other as he went to hand her parasol. Suddenly, from behind the man, his head was lobbed with a swift cut of a butcher’s cleaver as her stomach was stabbed by the metal tip of her umbrella. The attacker just turned from where he came, whispering with an amused smile.
“For Landcaster.”
Some would think that people would just shut their traps and continue about their lives peacefully, but no. Here Liska was a ball of pink fire in the palm of her hand, and her sneakers pressing the print of the sole of into a sad man’s face. Continuously. And he’s still rambling on about how he didn’t commit his most recent crime.
“I told you Thames, {character name here} doesn’t want to see your face around here. You are out of warnings.” Liska says. The situation at hand, and her obvious black fox ears and matching nine fluffy tails invisible to the humans walking about downtown New Orleans. She was a long descendant of kitsune folk or fox people, her mom slept with a rather handsome man back in the day when she was backpacking across the Japanese countryside.
“I know Liska, I know! B-but {character name here} has half the town under his thumb! I can’t find one place to work!” Thames, a werewolf, pleads. Clasping his hands together, kneeling in front of me, begging helplessly.
“Stand up, like I said, this is your last warning. I’ll find someone to help you and your family out, but if you step into Demetrio’s territory again I cannot promise your safety.” She replies as her ears and tail disappear along with Thames’ wolf features, starting to walk away.
“T-thank you Liska, but how will I contact you?” Thames ask as I turn around to look at his face to face.
“You won’t. It’s too dangerous, especially with {character name here} on edge. Goodbye.” She turns back and starts walking down the street as she wanders through the hordes of humans, she couldn't but feel the presence of eyes watching her from afar.
***
You have got to be kidding me?! Liska thinks as her bare feet pound against the ground as lightning strikes across the sky and rain pours down from the starless sky.
Turns out that {character name here} had been following Liska for the past two weeks, watching her save the people she was supposed to kill. So, in payment for not murdering a mass majority of New Orleans supernatural population that was on the {character name here}'s to-do list, he’s decided to take her out personally.
The poor girl is drenched, to say the least, her red hair dripping drops of its own as her light gray hoodie has become almost black from being soaked. Her skinny jeans are practically a second skin on her legs at this point as she rounds the corner of a block. She pauses for a moment to catch her breath. The young appearing woman feels the hairs on the back of her neck rise as a dark presence washes over her, causing her ears and tails to pop out in instinct.
{character name here} walks out of the shadows from across the street. He looks just as handsome as the day she met him.
“I told you Thames, {character name here} doesn’t want to see your face around here. You are out of warnings.” Liska says. The situation at hand, and her obvious black fox ears and matching nine fluffy tails invisible to the humans walking about downtown New Orleans. She was a long descendant of kitsune folk or fox people, her mom slept with a rather handsome man back in the day when she was backpacking across the Japanese countryside.
“I know Liska, I know! B-but {character name here} has half the town under his thumb! I can’t find one place to work!” Thames, a werewolf, pleads. Clasping his hands together, kneeling in front of me, begging helplessly.
“Stand up, like I said, this is your last warning. I’ll find someone to help you and your family out, but if you step into Demetrio’s territory again I cannot promise your safety.” She replies as her ears and tail disappear along with Thames’ wolf features, starting to walk away.
“T-thank you Liska, but how will I contact you?” Thames ask as I turn around to look at his face to face.
“You won’t. It’s too dangerous, especially with {character name here} on edge. Goodbye.” She turns back and starts walking down the street as she wanders through the hordes of humans, she couldn't but feel the presence of eyes watching her from afar.
***
You have got to be kidding me?! Liska thinks as her bare feet pound against the ground as lightning strikes across the sky and rain pours down from the starless sky.
Turns out that {character name here} had been following Liska for the past two weeks, watching her save the people she was supposed to kill. So, in payment for not murdering a mass majority of New Orleans supernatural population that was on the {character name here}'s to-do list, he’s decided to take her out personally.
The poor girl is drenched, to say the least, her red hair dripping drops of its own as her light gray hoodie has become almost black from being soaked. Her skinny jeans are practically a second skin on her legs at this point as she rounds the corner of a block. She pauses for a moment to catch her breath. The young appearing woman feels the hairs on the back of her neck rise as a dark presence washes over her, causing her ears and tails to pop out in instinct.
{character name here} walks out of the shadows from across the street. He looks just as handsome as the day she met him.
“Sweet child, don’t you know that they are mere mutts? They will never be able to be anything then servants,” a deep voice told the small figure that was currently watched in fear as her secret friend was being beaten in front of her.
Thunder clashed across the sky as a rather timid, young vampiress pressed herself against the plush cushion of her father's carriage.
A deep voice chuckled. "Don't worry little Lizzie, no one can hurt you." The man in line for the vampire throne gently petted his little sister's head.
"But Lucian, it is so dark and scary, how can you stand it?" Elizabeth asked as she was hardly ever out of the castle.
The vampire king was afraid of someone kidnapping his precious daughter because of her unrivaled beauty and singing voice. Like all Pure Bloods, Elizabeth was born with a power. Hers was the ability to control someone's mind after singing. If a person knew of her power, they could use her power to win wars.
Lizzie blinked her innocent brown eyes out of the carriage window, the rain had let up for the time being letting the full moon to shine its light upon the sleeping world. "Brother, why are we relocating without Papa and Mama?" She asked turning her head, her dark brown hair gently tumbling over her shoulder and down her back.
Lucian sighed, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly. Studying his baby sister with his corrupted ruby orbs. After a Pure Blood has tasted human blood, their eyes turn to the infamous red color that history has led humans to believe. But if they were feed animal blood, or human food, they stayed the color they were born with. Easier to hide among the humans that way.
"Because Lizzie, the war with the werewolves is getting worse. Father is doing this for your own good." He replied as he stiffened as the rain started once again. Before the rain, there was a wind, one that carried the scent of wet dog.
"Driver, move this carriage faster!" Lucian ordered as the driver replied back in French, and with a sigh said his order in French. Elizabeth wrapped her fur coat around herself tighter against herself. This storm wasn't normal, there was a feeling in the air.
"I should have never left the castle." She murmured to herself glancing at the raining, cloudless, full moon sky. Suddenly the carriage was hit with a force Lizzie never experienced before, scaring the living daylights out of her. Lucian hissed, his fangs extending in the protective nature of his sister. Elizabeth held her breath as the carriage picked up its pace, but soon the carriage was hit again, and again until it turned onto its side.
Lizzie cried out in pain as a luggage bag hit her head and glass pierced her arms. "Lu? Lucian?" She called out weakly but the vampire prince was fighting off werewolves to protect his sister. The vampire princess painfully crawled out of the wrecked carriage, only to be picked up by a rather large blonde man. Her eyes widened with fear, as his widened with shock.
"Don't worry mi'lady, we'll get ya away from the bloodsucker." He murmured carrying her gently like a child into the forest with Lucian letting out a roar of fury.
Thunder clashed across the sky as a rather timid, young vampiress pressed herself against the plush cushion of her father's carriage.
A deep voice chuckled. "Don't worry little Lizzie, no one can hurt you." The man in line for the vampire throne gently petted his little sister's head.
"But Lucian, it is so dark and scary, how can you stand it?" Elizabeth asked as she was hardly ever out of the castle.
The vampire king was afraid of someone kidnapping his precious daughter because of her unrivaled beauty and singing voice. Like all Pure Bloods, Elizabeth was born with a power. Hers was the ability to control someone's mind after singing. If a person knew of her power, they could use her power to win wars.
Lizzie blinked her innocent brown eyes out of the carriage window, the rain had let up for the time being letting the full moon to shine its light upon the sleeping world. "Brother, why are we relocating without Papa and Mama?" She asked turning her head, her dark brown hair gently tumbling over her shoulder and down her back.
Lucian sighed, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly. Studying his baby sister with his corrupted ruby orbs. After a Pure Blood has tasted human blood, their eyes turn to the infamous red color that history has led humans to believe. But if they were feed animal blood, or human food, they stayed the color they were born with. Easier to hide among the humans that way.
"Because Lizzie, the war with the werewolves is getting worse. Father is doing this for your own good." He replied as he stiffened as the rain started once again. Before the rain, there was a wind, one that carried the scent of wet dog.
"Driver, move this carriage faster!" Lucian ordered as the driver replied back in French, and with a sigh said his order in French. Elizabeth wrapped her fur coat around herself tighter against herself. This storm wasn't normal, there was a feeling in the air.
"I should have never left the castle." She murmured to herself glancing at the raining, cloudless, full moon sky. Suddenly the carriage was hit with a force Lizzie never experienced before, scaring the living daylights out of her. Lucian hissed, his fangs extending in the protective nature of his sister. Elizabeth held her breath as the carriage picked up its pace, but soon the carriage was hit again, and again until it turned onto its side.
Lizzie cried out in pain as a luggage bag hit her head and glass pierced her arms. "Lu? Lucian?" She called out weakly but the vampire prince was fighting off werewolves to protect his sister. The vampire princess painfully crawled out of the wrecked carriage, only to be picked up by a rather large blonde man. Her eyes widened with fear, as his widened with shock.
"Don't worry mi'lady, we'll get ya away from the bloodsucker." He murmured carrying her gently like a child into the forest with Lucian letting out a roar of fury.
Please PM me or tag me in the post so I see you!