I feel a little awkward about shouting into the void for a writing partner, but I find myself itching to write again after a long break, and want to find someone to work with and bounce ideas off of to get the creative energy going again. [hider=About Me/Preferences] *My name is Chelsea. I’m a 28 year old female. I was an English major and a theatre minor at college, and have just recently finished earning my Master's Degree in Education, and am starting my third year of teaching. *I’ve been doing the RP thing for about five or six years total, with a couple of hiatuses due to family issues and education. *I prefer to write one main female character (third person POV), and however many NPC’s are necessary for what we come up with. *I usually like my RPs to have romance, but this doesn't *have* to be explicit; I'm okay with a fade-to-black. Whatever floats your boat. *I prefer to write/communicate via PM. *I generally stick to 2-4 paragraphs per post, I do tend to get carried away every now and then, but don’t except a novel every time. *I can guarantee a minimum of one post a week. Possibly more, but I want a low minimum number. I'm a teacher, and that means I'm busy; especially with distance learning being the normal right now. However, I am trying to find those outlets away from school, and this is one of them. *I love to talk! I want to get to know you outside of just the RP; communication helps build a great relationship and I want to be your friend in addition to being a writing partner. [/hider] If all of that floats your boat, then here’s some stuff I have floating in my head. If you don’t see anything that tickles your fancy, still PM me! These are just some ideas I’ve had wiggling around, but I would love to just talk and come up with something off the cuff as well! [hider=Soul Mates/ACOTAR Flavor] I’ve always been curious about the idea of soul-mates in literature. If you’ve seen the movie Timer, I was thinking something along those lines. But instead of a world where you have a device/are born with a timer that counts down to the moment you meet your soul mate, the world I had in mind was a world where you are born with your soul-mates name on your wrist. This could get complicated, on a large scale (people with multiple names, what about different languages, etc.), but the name is written in different “fonts”/handwritings, colors, and you get a first and last name. (The colors have to match, your name must be on the other persons hand, and in general, unless there’s a language difference, the handwriting is the same; so mistakes rarely ever occur). In this world, with modern technology, it’s very rare for people [i]not[/i] to know who/where their soulmate is. There’s the internet and websites dedicated to finding the name, there’s private detectives, language analysts, tv shows and newspaper articles on how “Not to mess up that First Meeting.” There’s also tragedy, people who discover their intended died young, before they could meet. What do you do after the person who was supposed to be the One for you dies? There’s counseling, there’s also dating for people who have lost that someone. There’s so many endless possibilities with this world. A member of Royalty from a country finds out through his families private detectives that his soulmate owns a tiny pastry shop in Paris and has no royal blood in her whatsoever. A famous movie actress discovers her intended works at a dive bar and can barely pay rent. Best friends who grow up living next door; the straight jock who hides his wrist in the locker room because he knows for sure that “David” is not a girls name. ENDLESS POSSIBILITIES. My thought combines this world with either time travel/alternate dimensions. What happens when a girl is born and she has markings on her wrist that no language analyst can decipher. What happens when she overhears a doctor saying to her parents, “Maybe there was a glitch in the system? Maybe there’s just no one out there for your daughter.” As she watches her older brother, older sister, and younger sister all meet their soul mates. You can’t get rid of the name (people have tried, heartbroken widows clawing at their wrists, it just scars over or comes back as the skin heals itself). So she covers it up with a thick leather wristband; tells people who ask her soul mate died in a car accident before he turned ten. She lies, she smiles, she gets on with her life. Until her entire family takes a trip to [Scotland/Ireland/New Zealand/Wherever] and she gets hurled back in time/to another world, where the writing on her wrist is the language that they use. This could get interesting if it’s back in time in an unfamiliar place, where she doesn’t speak the language, and she meets the person with her name on their wrist but they can’t communicate (unless whatever sends her back does something like a TARDIS and translates things). I have a lot of different ideas/directions this could go in, and if it sounds like something you’d like to explore, we can discover those things together. Edited to add: I've been reading the "A Court of Thorns and Roses" series and love the whole concept of a Mating Bond, so incorporating that element could be interesting--rather than actual soul marks.[/hider] [hider=Assassin/Senator's Daughter * Craving] A senator is up for reelection. He and his daughter had a very public falling out right after his previous election, and if affected his image. So, now that he has to campaign again, something has to be done to restore that image for the public. However, his daughter wants nothing to do with him. So, now he has an image problem to fix, and since reconnecting with his daughter, he hires [i]the best[/i] assassin in the business to work as her bodyguard, because he heard that someone was going to make a threat on her life. He is very public about the rumors and hiring someone to look after her, because, "Even though our relationship is strained, her safety has been and always will be, my top priority. I hope that this might open a bridge so we can close the gap that has formed between us over the last five years." I imagine a kind of Hades/Persephone, Dark/Light dynamic. The assassin will not take the bribe the Senator offers him to kill his daughter, and when men are sent to kill her, he ends up killing them and "kidnapping" her, which the Senator then also spins for publicity. This can go in a number of different directions that we can figure out. I have a character in mind, too, below the cut: [hider=Lily Collins] Lily Collins finally had the quiet life she had always wanted. She had been living, happy and content, for the past five years outside of New York City in the small town of Willowsdale. Willowsdale was quaint. Small enough that there were a lot of familiar faces, but large enough to not feel claustrophobic. It’s quaintness also led to a fair amount of day-trip tourists, which allowed her business to be fairly successful. The Wallflower was her pride and joy. She had opened the store when she moved to the town five years prior after... the Incident. She had grown up in the heart of the city. Her mother had passed away when she was in middle school, and since then her father had been even more distant than he had been prior. Her father had been the mayor of New York City for most of her life. Her freshmen year of high school, he had thrown his hat in the ring for Senator. That was when things changed. Her father and she had never been close. He had wanted her to follow in his footsteps and go into politics, but after running for Class President in eighth grade, she had decided that she was not interested. At all. So she joined the Gardening Club, and found her passion. She kept gardening all through high school and college, where she majored in Business and minored in Agricultural Studies. Her father spent most of his time in Washington D.C., leaving her to fend for herself, which suited her just fine. She had always been independent. She had a few friends that she was close with, but on the whole she tended to stick to herself. Her final semester of college her father had been reelected and he was on the victory circuit. She tried to attend as many events as she could to help out; she understood politics enough to know that image was everything, but she was also busy with her final classes and big projects. She knew her father wasn’t particularly happy with her, but her happiness came before his. One Saturday evening, she had set her schoolwork aside to attend a fundraising gala to help regain some of the money he had spent during the campaign. Halfway through the dinner an old family friend had approached her looking for Senator Collins. When she went off to find him, the Incident happened. She had searched up and down the downstairs of the flashy hotel the gala was in, and stumbled across him having a conversation with an older gentleman. He was blackmailing him. For campaign money. That had been the last straw. She had stormed off, and her father knew her too well. He followed her, begging her not to tell anyone, and it escalated into a huge argument in the middle of the lobby. A very public, loud argument where all of the dirty laundry between them was aired. She criticized him, he belittled her, she brought up her mother. Neither of them mentioned the blackmail; deep down, she didn’t really want to ruin his career. But the fight still damaged his reputation, and his approval rating took a hit. She graduated a few short weeks later, and then performed a little blackmail of her own. Lily was generally a sweet, mild-mannered girl, but she had enough of a backbone to stand up for herself when she needed to. She wasn’t afraid to get a little vicious. So, in exchange for not spilling her father’s secret, he was going to buy her flower shop. She had all of the paperwork ready, the location picked out, and an extra plot of land with a small cottage where she would plant her flowers to sell. Her father was furious, but agreed, signed the check, and watched her leave his office with his teeth clenched. She didn’t look back. A little over five years had passed, and she knew that her father would start campaigning again. Sure enough, one evening, she sat at home with a cup of tea, curled up on the couch, and saw an advertisement for his election on her newsfeed on Facebook. She spitefully reported the ad for being offensive. Meanwhile, back in New York City, her father’s campaign manager was telling him that the fight with his daughter was causing his numbers to be lower than the woman who was running against him. Desperate to win, he started to come up with an idea. He would just need to make a few phone calls…[/hider] [/hider] [hider=Summoned] A quiet college student living alone accidentally summons a demon while researching the occult for a paper. Chaos ensues. [i]It was nights like these when Sarah was extremely glad that she had opted to live off campus for her senior year. True, her apartment wasn’t much more than a glorified shoebox with windows, but it was completely and entirely hers. She didn’t have to worry about getting locked out by her roommate and forced to sleep in the 24/7-campus library. Or about her roommate blasting music at one in the morning when she was trying to sleep because she had a huge midterm that was worth half of her grade to take the next morning. Or, like her junior year, a roommate that just sat in the dark and stared at her while she slept. That had been the last straw, and she’d pulled the money out of her savings to rent out the tiny apartment for the entire school year. Now, nearing midnight on a Friday night, her apartment was blissfully silent, and she sat at her slightly cluttered desk, poring through books for more information on occult rituals. So far, this class had been a test for her; it was totally out of her comfort zone, but she loved the Professor and she had been hooked in by the promise of reading Milton and Dante. Her Professor hadn’t mentioned that they would be diving into research on the occult in real life, and not just in literature, but if she had known she probably wouldn’t have taken the class. And so far, even though her research was seriously starting to freak her out a little bit, she was thoroughly enjoying everything else. Besides, she only had to write one paper on the creepier aspects. Once she was finished with this paper and handed it on Monday morning, she could switch her research back to The Divine Comedia and Dante’s views on the afterlife—the subject she had also chosen for her senior thesis for the following, and her final, semester. She sighed deeply, setting down her pen and reaching for her now lukewarm cup of tea. After draining the contents, she ran a hand through her blonde hair and shifted in her desk chair, pulling her legs up and moving to sit cross-legged. She pushed her reading glasses on top of her head to rub the sleep from her eyes and glanced at the clock, promising herself only thirty more minutes, then she could go to sleep. She rested her chin on one hand and idly flipped through the book with the other, skimming through the old, faded words for something that pertained to her research of cults who attempted to actually summon demons and other dark forces. She thought the concept completely ludicrous, but these symbols and incantations were ancient. The book she was using she had stumbled upon completely by accident. She had been browsing through a local used bookstore that she frequented when it just sort of caught her eye on the shelf. It had cost her a little bit more than she had wanted to spend, but was proving to be incredibly useful. It was full of spells, runes, symbols, and recipes. She didn’t know how old it was, but the pages were hand-cut, and the writing looked like it was in ink; though, some of it was in a dark red substance, that she sincerely hoped was not blood. As she was flipping through the pages, she paused as she came across a particularly intricate drawing of what appeared to be a summoning circle drawn in red. Her paper was focused on ritual summoning ceremonies, what was involved, and, most importantly, the reasoning behind them. So far, everything she had found related to power; usually a leader of some cult, attempting to summon a so-called demon, in order to gain power and prove to the world that his cult (because, it usually was a male) was the real deal. She placed her glasses back on her face and bent closer, tracing her hands over the various markings, brow furrowed as she did her best to interpret the slightly faded markings. [/i] [/hider] If you have any interest in striking up a conversation/discussion about any of the above, or developing something entirely new together, please contact me through PM. Thanks so much, Chelsea