I'm strictly looking for a writing buddy who is comfortable with advanced/novella-style writing. I enjoy vivid descriptions, powerful character studies, and multifaceted worldbuilding. Wordcount doesn't strictly matter, but it often goes hand in hand with content and depth, which are qualities I'm keen to prioritise.

I do not write to titillate, nor to be titillated. Adult content is fine and will rarely be off limits, but it should always facilitate plot/character, not the other way around.

I don't need to lecture you about respect, godmodding, inappropriate behaviour, etc. You're better than that ♡.

For a sample of my writing style, I encourage any prospective partners to peruse my post history. I kindly request for the same courtesy to be extended in return — so if you do not have a sample easily available, please share something with me when doffing your hat.

I will do my best to match engagement; be it weekly, biweekly, or cooler biweekly. However I have a busy and complicated life, so there will likely be times when I break away from scheduling. I will do my best to communicate this, and that's all I ask from you.

Psychology; Philosophy; Urban decay; Collapse of the heroic ideal; Cults and cult-leaders; Power and corruption; Found family; Defiant joy; Mythmaking and propaganda; False prophecy; Ideological extremism; Generational trauma; Ordinary lives in extraordinary worlds; Haunted technology; Political manipulation; Broken utopias; Machine consciousness; Glamour masking horror; Haunted bloodlines; Wasteland justice; Exile and belonging; Honour among thieves; Ambition unto obsession.

The year is 1935.

The city of New Orleans is a paradox.

On one hand, it is among the most effervescent settlements in the West. The city pulses with an unmistakable rhythm — a song sung by Frenchmen, Spaniards, Africans, and Caribbeans, all harmonized by the American South. Its culture echoes loudly throughout the US; jazz and blues, color and cuisine, festivity and hedonism.

On the other, the city is among the most poverty-stricken in the country. The wounds of the Great Depression fester on, suffocating the poor and marginalised, while draconian Jim Crow laws continue to enforce malicious racial segregation. The Prohibition has been repealed, but its rot lingers, soaked into the city’s bones. Speakeasies governed by gangsters remain havens for villains and crooks, and underground black-markets continue to fence illicit wares, with cocaine and opiates running particularly rife. The city government is a blunt blade, ill-equipped to combat the chaos, plagued by malfeasance and political intimidation.

Beneath it all, ‘neath the fog-heavy bayous and the perfume of magnolias, something fiendish and ancient lurks. The city’s soul is tangled in the unseen. In shadowed backroom parlors, mediums whisper to the dead, rootworkers cast bones for the desperate, and voodoo priests commune with the arcane. But what watches from within, beneath it all, compares not to any common witch doctor or conjurer, for it imperils the New World en masse. And it already knows your name.