Stripper/dancer/brothel girl x patron/owner.
I've toyed with the idea of very dark themes with this including drugs, criminal organizations, etcetera. It will be very mature in theme, likely a lot of smut.

+ Perhaps a throw back to gladiator days, an underground fighting circle uses a local strip joint or club to showcase their brothel, letting winners pick a "prize".
+ Two girls bonding and finding love in this situation could be fun.
+ This could go into many different directions depending on the time period played.

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Arranged marriage.
This could be anything between older eras to modern times.

+ Getting out of Northern Ireland and safe from criminal activity in modern times is a possibility.
+ Uniting two peoples or two kingdoms to end a war.
+ Solidifying a hold on a defeated kingdom by taking the successor.
+ Supernatural theme - Two werewolf packs need to unite, and use their children as the way to do it.

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Royalty/nobility x knight/soldier; royalty/nobility x servant/slave.
Character development between the two could be massive here.

+ The idea of a knight/soldier befriending a prisoner is fun.
+ Another one I have thought about involves a prophetess of mine being kept prisoner by an empire to keep her from the hands of the enemy.
+ On the flip side, a female noble could notice the service of someone and move them through the ranks.

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Cop/soldier x trauma survivor; cop/soldier x nurse; solder/soldier x soldier/mercenary.
Again, this can go with multiple eras.

+ I have a psychic that I've been wanting to play in this pairing. [Straddling the lines of our world and the spirit world, Lyli sees precursors to something horribly violent - bombing, shooting, terrorist attack - but cannot bring herself to be believed. Once it happens and she's caught up in the crossfire, someone tries to bring her out of her shell to keep it from happening again. Can they break through, or will they just cast her out as everyone else has?]
+ A grizzled veteran has been taken from the field, but his nurse is right by his side through recovery.

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Time travel!

+ A researcher finds a sword that once belonged to a warrior and it either brings him to modern times, or will bring her back to his own!
+ Transported back in time, could legends of monsters be true after it was all "proven fake" in modern times?

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Pantheon on Earth!
Possibilities here are endless.

+ A goddess or a god could come to interact on Earth, or be brought to the Heavens. (The hilarity of an ancient god/dess trying to understand and figure out modern amenities, though!)
+ A woman is to be sacrificed to an old god, only to find that the god is far more curious than bloodthirsty, saving her from the cultists.

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Things that go bump in the night.
Shifters, vampires, and demons, oh my! I play and love to pair with supernatural creatures often.

+ One plot I've been craving has been a turned noble/royal (werewolf, vampire, et cetera) whose mother advertises for a servant or nurse to tend to thanks to reclusive nature. Upon arriving, she knows something is wrong, but cannot draw herself to leave either because she needs the money or because she feels the drive to help him/her. However, she's hiding dark history of her own as well…
+ I have played hunter/hunted pairings before, and they can turn out rather fun.

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Drugs, mystery, and crime.

+ A drug lord kidnapping his rival's daughter.
+ A one night stand that involves unknown enemies.
+ A debt paid in flesh and slavery.
+ A witness that sees something she shouldn't.
+ A daughter falls in love with her guard.
+ An assassin gets caught by her target.

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General ideas.

+ Cop x victim.
+ Anthros; anthro x anthro; anthro x human.
+ College students; student x teacher.
+ Warlord x slave. [ * This one is a craving! ]
+ Noble x solder/slave.
+ Werewolf x human; werewolf x werewolf.
+ Biker/criminal x everyday person.
+ God/dess x priestess/sacrifice/warrior in their name.
+ Slavery!
+ Doctor x victim/patient.
+ Please bring suggestions!

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. Essentials .

• Age: Twenty seven
• Height: 5'7"
• Weight: 132
• Build: Toned
• Skin Tone: Sunkissed
• Hair Color: Brunette
• Eye Color: Brown
• Martial Status: Unmarried, uncourted, no offspring

. Extensive .

• Spoken languages: French (mother tongue), English (fluent), German (fluent), Russian (proficient), Italian (proficient)
• Notable Skills: Horsemanship, archery, swordsmanship, cartography, business, politics.
• Favored Weapon/s: Arming sword, misericorde, long bow.
• Mount/s: Recken; 18hh black stallion of unknown breeding, draft cross type [active]. Philippe; 16.2hh gray stallion of her family's own Boulonnais bloodlines [semi-retired].

. The Black Lions .

• Status: Private military regiments under command of the de Vauex family and the King.
• Size: 4,400 and growing.
• Origins: Mixed; both genders and multiple countries serving within the ranks.

---

Born into a lineage of great soldiers and highly educated nobility, Gisele was the fifth child of seven to be born from the union of Richard and Eleanor de Vauex, their first daughter. Unlike her younger sister, it was quickly apparent that, like her brothers and father before her, the girl would not focus on the softer arts of nobility and their politics. Instead, the little hellcat defied every order to remain outside of the lands that housed the barracks to the private army her family had amassed through generations of marching for the glory of the King and their own conquests. Instead, she seemed to bond tightest with the aging Master of Arms and despite numerous attempts to interest her in other aspects of life, Richard soon came to realize that Gisele was no soft girl. She was to become a warrior, like her brothers and her forefathers.

Stubborn though she was, it proved as valuable a trait as it was frustrating for her family - too proud to not master a skill, Gisele would train with her sword until her hands bled and would ride until her thighs were raw to become so comfortable with skills taught to her through multiple cultures within the Black Lions. Court proved another matter entirely, her pride and prowess making her seem almost a bit brash to potential suitors, and even when a brave man might have challenged for her hand, he failed.

By the first time Gisele marched at a mere sixteen, she had lost two of her brothers to a hellish skirmish where their own ego had proven their downfall. The rage manifested from the loss of family had driven the girl to prove she could be just as bloodthirsty as a berserker, avenging her fallen siblings and bringing them home for burial.

That had truly been the beginning of the end, hadn't it?

With Michael and Justin dead, her father had seemed to lose some of his own confidence in battle. Though the man had gone gray in his temples, his broad shoulders had deceived many from knowing just how hard it had been to put two of his children to rest. Called to war again and again, the other three boys had fallen one by one. Alexandre, Corbin, Roland… all given proper rights, their ashes put in the family tombs. Soon, Richard was left marching only with his daughter and the losses had changed the general - his own tactics became reckless, a source of fights with Gisele - and a worry for his wife.

It was while the Black Lions had been facing a horde of tribal warriors when Gisele was nineteen that her life had changed for the worse yet again.

One wrong move had taken the general from them, an axe to the neck meaning sure death. For the young warrior, it had been a haze of leaping from her horse and cleaving a man apart before she had held her dying father in her arms. That night, she had keened high and wept among the carnage, unable to bring herself to let him go until the Master of Arms had come to collect his body.

The next day, Gisele had killed them all. There had been no mercy, every warrior under her command soaked in their blood. While most had celebrated, the young woman had felt like her world was falling apart behind the privacy of her tent flaps. Bringing her father home for proper funeral rites had been a solemn affair for some, but the singing of war tunes within the ranks had nearly brought her to tears.

It was only at the pyre that Gisele had wept once more, her head turned towards the sky with the drumbeats and voices of the men and women whom had once followed her late father's command around her. Sending his spirit to the next world had been a soul-crushing night for her, one that had changed her.

A fortnight later, her mother suffered from a heart attack as well, as if she had been too lost without her husband. She, like Richard, was given to the skies and the tombs.

With her younger sister Amelia as the last of her family, Gisele had married the bright girl to a man she fancied to find herself alone by the age of twenty. Hardening herself into the general she would become, it had not come without sacrifice and vice. Even still, before she was thirty, no one could laugh at an army and control of multiple ports, towns, and trading routes.

---

. Essentials .

• Age: Eighteen
• Height: 4'11"
• Weight: 89
• Build: Waifish
• Skin Tone: Pale
• Hair Color: Silvery blonde
• Eye Color: Gray
• Martial Status: Unmarried, unattached, no offspring

. Extensive .

• Spoken languages: English (fluent), Latin (proficient)
• Notable Skills: Survival, rune work, acting.
• Living Situation: Homeless and hopeless.

---

As a child, Lylith never knew why she could hear the whispers - just as much as she didn't know why she could see the hazy visions of souls stuck in Limbo. The failed result of a ritual between an occultist and one of his lovers, the girl had been given up from his home in London by the time she was a young child to his brother in America when she had not shown the promise of being tethered to demonic forces as they had hoped for.

Very quickly, odd things had begun to happen around the child; there was objects moved, growling out of thin air, and figures fading in and out of the edges of her uncle's vision. He had soon become unnerved enough that he had given her up into the foster system, where she spent the next fourteen years changing hands and slipping in and out of psych wards in thanks to her "strange" behavior and the mysterious circumstances of many of her caretakers either becoming injured or committing suicide. As she got older, things got worse; often, those that found her wanted her for more sinister purposes than a home. More than once, she had endured the unspeakable, though she had managed to avoid pregnancy by some miracle.

By the time Lyli aged out, she had no skills and no job, finding herself wandering and homeless. Worse yet, when the weather grew cold and she couldn't get south, she found that it was easier to give her body to those that wanted a punching bag or a semi-willing partner instead of freezing to death or suffering painful frostbite or hypothermia when the shelters were full. Hell, sometimes it also meant a hot meal when she finally had the desire to eat.

Her way of living helped to hide the precarious way that Lyli was forced to live: she could hear those that hadn't moved on, see the spectres that haunted the world and the demons had lurked to fetch souls from their world. Even after she had once carved runes into herself, trying to block it all out, little had changed her birthright.

---

. Essentials .

• Age: Nineteen
• Height: 5'1" (human); 29" (lupine, shoulder)
• Weight: 102 (human); 59 (lupine)
• Build: Slim
• Skin Tone: Fair
• Hair Color/Coat Tone: Brunette (human); brown tones (lupine)
• Eye Color: Brown (human), golden (lupine)

---

Third child to a second marriage, Elisabeth had always been a quiet girl. Studying music and art, she had been a wallflower in court and at parties, making it difficult to form any bonds. Instead, she was only close with her sisters and her mother and had become attached to a mare her father had gifted her with for her sixteenth birthday.

The plucky Morgan had gotten her out of the manor, finding freedom in riding through the familiar trails of the vast acreage that her father's family had been tending for generations. She had been a natural horsewoman, and many of the tenets on the land had been happy to see her. Often, she had been happy to play with their children or read tales to them, but that life was gone.

In fact, her entire life had been changed so suddenly, so viciously, that she wasn't quite sure how to process it at all.

All that Elisabeth knew was that she woke with horrible wounds, her horse dead in the middle of the forest. A wolf's howl had been heard, the night soon to be upon her. Blood stained the snow all around her, and she couldn't feel her left arm or leg at all. It had only been by instinct that her father and brothers had found her nearly deceased and had brought her home, a doctor called on to see to her wounds. They had been kind enough to bring her mare home to bury her, but the trauma was the least of her worries.

Soon, she had begun to lose time, entire days sometimes - but it was not without realizing that something was very, very wrong. Slashed curtains, ruined mattresses and a feeling of rage and loneliness unlike anything she had ever experienced. Her family drew away, and then, finally, she found herself locked in a place she had only seen a few scant times in her life... the dungeons below the ancient manor. Though small, the cells were in working order and soon the blackouts became fevered dreams of something else.

The visits from her mothers and sister became less and less frequent before they stopped entirely. Her brothers even seemed leery, her father as well, though she still had good food and her books.

It didn't make her any less lonely.

Was this going to be her life now? There was whispers of her being something else, something cursed... but her father wasn't talking. The doctor wasn't talking.

Elisabeth had never felt so hopeless in her life, but somewhere in her, she could feel the fur beneath the flesh.

The Essentials
"Gracie", "Liza"
Twenty-five
5'3", 114
Born in Belfast, resides in Boston
Unmarried, no children
Northern Irish bloodline

Extended
Registered nurse, paramedic
Knowledgeable in firearms, medicine, and psychology
Fluent in English and Irish Gaelic
Pansexual, submissive



History

Alisa was born into a charmed life with a general practitioner for a mother, Erin Evans, and a successful businessman for a father, Callum Evans. The youngest of five children, her four brothers - Robert, Edward, Michael, and Cody - had always stuck up for her and tried to protect the gentle soul as she grew up. Private schools, expensive horses, several properties throughout the counties, anything she ever wanted. Studying hard and getting top marks, she excelled throughout her children in and out of school.

Frankly, she had never been too interested in the family "business", though she had definitely been interested in medicine. Before she was finished with her basic schooling to head to university, her mother had been diagnosed with multi-system of cancer -- and it took her out in six months that were living hell. Alisa studied and qualified herself as a caretaker for the woman through her end, which only strengthened her desire to help save lives and comfort the dying.

After her mother's passing, Alisa had worked at the family pub while attending school to be paramedic. It was there that she began to learn more about the dark side of her father's business dealings: arms dealing, in specific. While most exports had stopped with the bombings, her family had continued and moved into higher deals than just guns and bombs. Though Alisa turned a blind eye to most of it and tended the wounds of "business associates" and her family, she wasn't able to forever.

She had been barely twenty-one when she had been kidnapped. The men who took her spoke no English, but they hadn't been kind. Over three weeks while they made deals with Callum, Alisa was raped, beaten, starved, and drugged. Even after she had been recovered half by force and half by her kidnappers being terrified, the damage had been done to her body and mind. Most of it, Alisa just wanted to forget.



It had been two years of surgeries and physical therapy before the woman had gotten back to a semi-normal baseline. By then, she had made the decision that she didn't want to reside where she felt unsafe, and that happened to be her home of Ireland. Instead, she decided to move to the States - her family had friends there, as well as "business associates" that could keep an eye on her.

As soon as she moved, her father had quickly bought her a house on the outskirts of Boston while she went to school. Her education cost her nothing, and she even worked as an aide while she went to school for a nursing degree. After two years, and stressful boards taken, she had landed a job at Mass General in the emergency department. Flourishing amongst chaos, she felt as if she had found her calling and didn't need to linger on her past.



Out of Character

Potential possibilities of pairings:
- Another healthcare provider, hospital security, or police officer.
- Patient.
- Another bar patron, or someone else at a club.
- One of those friends or "business associates".
- Tinder date.

Alisa isn't opposed to one night stands, but I would love to see her involved in a slow burn romance.

Anything is welcome, so feel free to shoot me a message. Supernatural/fantasy elements might work out as well.

The Essentials
"Chloe", "Rose"
Born in 1588, turned in 1608; immortal
5'5", 118
Born in County Galway, drifter
Widow, no living children
Irish bloodline, moon daughter of Cailleach and The Morrighan

Extended
Arms runner, bartender, huntress
Fluent in English, Irish Gaelic, Romanian, Latin, French, and Italian
Heteroflexible, switch



History

Clover was born to a poor peasant family on the moors of Ireland, where they made a meager living off the land and some farming under the rule of their local chieftain. When she was still a girl, she had lost her parents and siblings to the Black Death that ravaged most of the clan. Being an orphan had taught the girl independence and quick thinking - enough so that tales of England and their grand lords had reached her ears in her early teens.

The travel had certainly not been easy, and not without dangers. It was only by sheer strength of will and the kindness of an occasional meal from strangers that Clover found herself in the duchy of Lord Willerhelm and had, through hard work in his field and helping in his stables, that she had been offered a position to help cook and clean within the castle walls. There, she worked as hard as she always had as she grew into a young woman under the gaze of the staff that had always seemed too uneasy around the lord and his sons.

Clover found out soon enough why. Her dark curls and trim frame attracted the attention of the oldest son the winter she had turned seventeen. When his advances were rejected, the girl found out quickly how cruel the hands of the nobility could be.

The summer of her nineteenth year, she had met and become smitten with a stablehand named Mikhail that had also hailed from Ireland. The young man was tall, broad, and handsome with a kindness and patience she had not known since childhood. He treated her with a softness she needed in those days, sometimes tending to her wounds himself with herbs gathered from the countryside. Though the two were never intimate, there was a bond that defied definition between them.



Every mistake, big or small, had resulted in everything from a simple backhand to caning her so badly that it was nigh impossible to move. That didn't mean that the young woman gave in - rather, Clover had taken it and continued her job until one night where she had finally fought back by clawing the young lord Richard when he had attempted to rape her. The beating that night had nearly killed her, and when he was done, she found herself literally thrown into the rain to bleed to death or die of exposure. It was not kind, but the man had never seemed to have an ounce of goodness and empathy within him.

It was Mikhail that found her gasping for air from broken ribs and a broken nose, barely clinging to life from internal bleeding brought on by repeatedly beating her wherever the blows could meet. Only when she had been coughing up blood had he literally dragged her screaming and begging from inside had any ounce of hope dared to crop up in her.

Frankly, Clover hadn't remembered her dear companion picking her up out of the mud to carry her beyond where others could see, deep into the forest that surrounded the castle. She never knew his sense of urgency, only that they were beneath a pine tree and away from the rain as he gathered her tighter into his arms.

"Forgive me, I cannot think of another way to save you," he had said as he peeled away her clothing from her shoulder, revealing forming bruises beneath.

That had been the first time Clover had seen him shift, becoming something not quite wolf and not quite human as he held her dying body in his arms. Mikhail had been a large man, standing far taller than those around the estate, but when he had shown his lunar gift, it had defied her thoughts.

With a whimper of sorrow, his muzzle opened wide and his teeth sunk deep into her body. His maw was so large by comparison, encompassing not only her shoulder, but into her back and the top of her breast as he transferred his wolfen favor into her mortal flesh.

That night, the only thing she could remember after the bite was being free. Running through the trees, feeling unbound and wild under the gaze of the moon and stars with a huge black wolf at her side. It was pure hedonism, but it was perfect.

It had come of no surprise that Mikhail had helped her cope with her change, taught her how to shift and hunt and hide amongst the humans. He had no pack, but the two became so deeply bonded that it went beyond being mates. They soon had a small home of their own, farming and raising livestock, in a way that was simply perfect. It was made complete when Clover became withchild, giving birth to twin boys with a bright crescent moon in the sky months later.

Her life was pure.


Perfection never lasted forever.

Hunters ruined her nirvana. Full of hatred and lack of understanding, they had found the four of them with a contempt for anything but human. While Clover was never sure how they had found them, that night had been nothing but death and fire... whole destruction of her happiness.

The mates had woken to men breaking into their home, drove silver stakes into the children despite the parents trying to fight the group off, and lit the cabin ablaze. Clover had tried desperately to fight them off, eyes streaming tears as she screamed with a sorrow and rage that couldn't be described. Mikhail had been the one to put most of them down with claws and teeth before grabbing his mate to run, putting the blaze behind them as he ran into the trees. The sound of horses pounding over the terrain behind them had been something out of a nightmare, and he had thought of nothing else but to see her safe.

"Run, a'gra... do not look back."

Those had been the last words he had said to her, pushing her away to run as he sacrificed himself to save her. The last thing her hearing could pick up was his snarling and the braying of the horses and screaming of men he ripped them limb from limb in his mission to keep Clover alive and unfettered.



The forests and moors that Clover went through were a lonely, desolate affair. She had hunted off the lands and hidden in the forest for months, mentally lost and unable to approach humans after the loss of her entire world. When she finally did, it was to become a field hand and then help inside of a tavern. It all wound up blurring together through the years.

Time saw Clover wearing many "hats", everything from tending bar to working at the docks to running guns when conflicts broke out. She learned languages and traveled, keeping hunters off her tail for a few generations. Tales of a she-wolf escaping as a mad lycanthrope tore apart a group of hunters had become legend. Mikhail was hailed as a maneater and a danger, and surely his living mate was no different.

Drifting through the world and simply living was the only direction Clover really had.

At least she still had her ring, and a hope that one day hatred would give way to peace.



Out of Character

This character was on the shelf for a long time, only played a couple times recently! I've been playing her for years, on and off.

My werewolves can shift at will, and have a human form, a fully wolfen form, and the in-between that is often depicted in art. They aren't rage-y or bloodthirsty, but simply trying to live their lives and blend in with humans. They have enhanced senses and sometimes have a bit more lupine behavior than humans (relying on scent, head tilting, that type of thing).

Potential possibilities of pairings:
- A defected hunter is looking to restart their life.
- While on the run, Clover stumbles her way into a pack.
- A human bonds with what they think is just a pretty girl.
- Someone is in need of saving, and Clover lends a hand.
- I'm open to suggestions!

. basics .
Isra Tablib
"Inka", "The Jackal"
Thirty one
5'8", 138
Unmarried, no children
French and Egyptian bloodlines

. advanced .
Well-versed in multiple styles of combat, with and without weapons
Fluent in English, Arabic, and French
Unhealthy love of alcohol
Bisexual, switch



. history .

Detroit was a shitty, seedy place for anything alive. That included Inka and her twin, Daea, as they grew up in the projects past 8 Mile with a drug-addled mother and a father that disappeared before the girls had even been born. The pair bounced around, sometimes together and sometimes apart, along with their older brother through foster care as their mother served different jail sentences. By the time that they were old enough to be emancipated, they had all seen hell and had their own demons that they had fought with.

Daea had fallen into the same habits as their mother, finding comfort in the needle even as she became involved with the independent music scene. Heavy metal was her escape, fame was a way out of the ghetto.

Inka hadn't been quite so lucky. Unlike her more submissive sister, she had grown up throwing punches and taking blows, defending both herself and Daea with a fervor that seemed to call to the simmering outrage within her. It was always just beneath the surface, like a wild beast, and it never truly felt tame. Like a wild beast beneath her tanned skin, it drove her to be seemingly fearless on the streets.

It was that same vigor that had caught the eye of her future "employer" when Inka was just seventeen. With her skills, and the right trainers, she could be well off. More than that, Inka had seen it as a way to get her sister clean, to keep her safe, and to get them to a better place in life.

Hell, maybe they could even go to college and break the cycle after a couple years.

At first, all that was offered was street and backyard brawls for bets, but she hadn't been able to turn down the money. Drugs traded hands there, alcohol was abundant, cash was everywhere. It had turned from house parties hosting fights to straight up cages.

Dirty cops knew.
Drug lords knew.

It wasn't necessarily a secret, but it wasn't flaunted.

Three years in, four fights a week hadn't ever felt like enough. Four became five, five became six.

Daea disappeared into the world of music and drugs amidst the chaos of her sister's inner war without a word. Even with crooked officers and heroin kings on her side, the other twin had up and vanished.

That realization had practically broken the fighter, leaving her alone in the world. It was only then that her light at the end of the tunnel seemed to burn out. This had to be her life now, right?



Time passed, and "The Jackal" had fallen into a routine of fights every other night. Friends didn't exist in her world, just work and home. The clubs sometimes were a reprieve, a place to loosen up and take home someone for the night. Life was boring, right?

Daea had to be out there somewhere.
There had to be more to life than the ring.



There's quite a few possibilities with her;
- A cop looking to get deeper into the underworld.
- Another fighter or a trainer.
- Drug king/queen.
- Childhood friend that pops up.
- Meet up at the club.
- More are obviously welcome.

[05/31/2020]
- Club owner or bartender.
- Medic taking care of her injuries. [** Craving]
- Random meeting through an app like Tinder to blow off steam after matches. [** Craving]

Anthros are welcome, as are supernatural beasties. This does not need to be set as realism! (Inka has been played as a shifter in the past.) In fact, it could be more than interesting to play her against someone to challenge her proper.

Please be literate and write between 2-6 paragraphs; I forgive typos and errors, they're part of life.

I'm in nursing and at the front lines of this pandemic, so know that I can and sometimes do disappear for a few days while working long hours.

Please shoot a message into my mailbox, I'm terrible about checking my threads!