Azlum

[18+] Looking for wordsmiths of like minds.

About Me
30 years old, Female
1+ Replies Daily
Multiple and highly detailed paragraphs
Plays mainly males, but can play secondary females
I'm fine with smut, although it is never the main plot point

What I'm looking for
21+ years old
Multiple and detailed paragraphs
Willingness to contribute to the plot
Does not have to have everything planned out

Genres - * = Craving Level
Cyberpunk **
Sci-fi
Modern Fantasy ***
Medieval Fantasy
Post-Apoc

Plot & Pairings
Arranged Marriage
-Prince x Princess
-Knight x Princess
-Warlord x Princess

War
-Warlord x Queen
-King x Queen
-Pirate Captain x Empress
-Barbarian x Royalty
-CEO x Government Agent
-Mob Lord x Underground Duchess

Captive vs Warden
-Messenger x Queen
-Warlord x Queen
-CEO x Client
-Mob Lord x Underground Duchess

Slice of Life
-Cafe Owner x Patron
-Writer x Publicist
-CEO x Lawyer
-Hitman x Detective
-Detective x Madame of Courtesan
-Scientist x Artist

Mer
-Octomer x Mermaid (Or other Fantasy Race)
-Octomer x Marine Biologist

If any of these are interesting please feel free to DM me, I'm also open to your own ideas, or a combination of what we come up with.

Wings Askew [CLOSED]

So. Anyone wanna come play a cliche shonen hero story?

@Mokley

Count me in... I'm already burning to make the character coming to mind.

Shivering Bay

Not gonna lie, I'm completely writing all of it by the seat of my pants.

Shivering Bay

Yeah... Screw that. Screw that entirely...

Shivering Bay

There was a lull in the conversation as Abel processed just what she was asking for. Small details? He could handle that. Personal bits? That would have to be pried out of him with a crowbar. Yet, the way she spoke to him probably didn't provoke the kind of reaction she expected. Rather, he relaxed quite a bit with a lopsided smile creeping up on his face which only grew more until finally a chuckle escaped him.

"By the gods," he let the laugh die but the smile remained, "I thought this conversation was going to go differently."

Not even Sloane had heard Abel say so many words consecutively much less hear a laugh out of him. The centaur behind the counter waved his hands at Alison, beckoning her to keep cracking the shell. It wasn't an impossible task, people just didn't know where to tap to start the fissures.

Starting to relax Abel picked up his drink, taking a sip of it before he went on. Maybe they were right, no one would remember me at all.

"The want to get to know someone does get personal, to a degree," Abel scratched at the scar on his face, done out of subconscious need than an actual irritant, "But I think I could oblige a few things. My favorite color is turqoise, my favorite drink is rum chata, and I have a calico cat named Felicity. She's old, fat, and a cuddle bug."

The details he was giving her didn't matter, they were pointless tidbits that didn't define who he actually was. Unless something really spoke to her about him having a cat, but he doubted it. WIth a rub to the back of his neck his smile turned sheepish, "Sorry about the comment earlier. Usually when people talk to me they're either telling me off or asking me what I want so I can get out of their hair faster."

It was then he realized he was all out of... Well he couldn't remember what he ordered, but it was gone so he had nothing to fiddle with now. The facade of confidence would fade soon if he didn't do something.

"I'll exchange a secret of mine for a secret of yours though," he said, flipping to the last page of his journal. Tipping it to where she couldn't see what he was writing he posed his question, "What is your deepest darkest fear?"

The pen was clicked, meeting the page as he wrote out something. It was six little words afterward he ripped the page out, folding it quickly into a little triangle with the end tucked in. If she answered him, even with a lie, he'd push it towards her to take. All the while, if and when she read it he'd simply just watch for her reaction.

Writing Inside the Page

I'm a criminal without a crime.

Shivering Bay

No problem at all, have fun at that work thing. Though, work and fun never really mixes does it?

Disregard

We definitely have something in common, loving really horrible stuff for conflicts.

I can play male or female, and I'd prefer post-apoc or sci-fi. Or a mix of both.

Pretty much, I'm up for anything.

Shivering Bay

Page after page had been filled, the ink covering the pages in both writing and drawings, not leaving unused surface before moving on to the next page. Sloane had tried to peek from time to time but it wasn’t long into Abel’s work was he leaned over the table, hunched over the journal. The coffee had only been sipped at here and there when he remembered it, most of the ice cubes having melted and watered down the drink but he didn’t seem to care.

The arrival made him jolt a bit, not having heard the woman at all until she spoke. Had he heard her enter the shop he would have made a mad dash out the door but he had been too enthralled in his work. Journal quickly closed he sat back in his seat, pen set to the side. There was an internal debate on whether he could just pack up and go, duck out the door and not come back for a week. Yet, her smile was disarming and her demeanor was rather pleasant, perhaps he was jump to conclusions too quickly.

“Uh… yeah, sure…” Abel stuttered, trying not to show just how panicked he actually was. Most people just left him be, others yelled at him to leave. Very few talked to him, even rarer was someone who actually wanted to have a conversation with him.

A hand waved to the place across from him, though the cuff on his wrist moved. Quick to place it back he folded his hands into his lap, a brief smile forming but it was obviously forced. She was pleasant enough though, and not too bad on the eyes, yet he seemed unnerved.

“What did you want to chat about?"

Shivering Bay

The Friday Farmer's Market was a cacophony of sound, the stalls and vendors having set up on Ocean Drive, the street that ran the length between the north and south beach. With the town on one side and the docks on the other people milled about all over, picking up fresh produce, perusing the presented crafts like handmade blankets, candles, and the like. The salt scented breeze brushing in from the sea kept the summer heat at bay, the late afternoon as pleasant as can be.

There were a couple of fairies with tiny little stall on top of a tall table, the clay pots the size of them having herbs and spices sprawling out every which way. Next to them was a faun peddling his hand stitched costumes, made in preparation for the midsummer night festival.

"Hey, Stuart!" one of the little fairies called out to the faun, having fluttered over to stand on one of his tables. Her voice was a squeaky little sound but it caught his ear.

"Yes Anita?" Stuart leaned down a bit to hear her better when she waved him closer.

"I was wondering if you could make me something special for the festival," she had quieted down a little, casting a glance back here and there to her partner, "And something for Delilah, too. I'm gonna propose to her when the bonfire is lit."

"Well, that's just down right adorable," a huge smile came across Stuart's face, his fluffy tail twitching this way and that in excitement, "Do you want the traditional summer court regalia or something inspired by your elements?"

"Can I have both? I..." Anita had given a glance again to her partner when she saw just who she was talking to. In a flurry of gossamer wings she rushed back to Delilah, waving her hands at the man as she looked up at him, "You! Shoo!"

"It's fine," Delilah tried to calm her down, "He's actually really nice, he just wants a mint plant."

"I don't care, I don't like him."

"That's so rude, he's standing right there!"

"I don't care!"

The two fairies continued their argument though from the sound of it the disagreement was becoming more than a little lovers' quarrel. Stuart stepped out of his stall, hooves clomping against the asphalt as he put himself between the fairies and the man, "I think you should leave."

The tone was more than enough for Abel Revnik to turn away and shove off through the crowd. There was a look of guilt, feeling quite bad for having started the debacle but he hadn't meant to. With a canvas grocery bag full of fruits and veggies he stopped off at a couple more stalls to pick up a few more things, never meeting the stares or flinching at the whisperings. It was just another day out in public for him.

A café at the end of the market line was ducked into, the smiling face of the centaur barista, Sloane, much easier to deal with. Abel always found it so compelling to watch him delicately move behind the counter, the horse part never seemed to be a hindrance as he already started to work, "The usual, Mister Revnik?"

"Please," he already dug into his pocket, the exact amount for his iced mocha placed on the counter with a couple bucks tossed into the tip jar. Picking up his drink at the other end Abel plopped himself to a booth at the very back end of the café, facing away from the entrance just to hide himself more.

Journal retrieved from the grocery bag set next to him he pulled a pen from his pocket, opening the book to a blank page to begin writing.

Shivering Bay

Name: Abel Revnik
Gender: Male
Age: Unknown
Species: Unknown

Appearance
Upon first glance Abel looks like just another guy with his own style, atleast seen from his left side. On the right side of his face there's a long scar that stretches from his hairline down to his jaw, tendrils of marred skin reaching up to his pierced ear through the thin beard. The long charcoal black hair hangs loose, looking more like a rat's nest with choppy bangs going everywhich way. Standing no taller than 6'1" his doesn't weigh more than 180 lbs, the pinnacle of a humanoid string bean.

The muted blue eyes seem as devoid of color as his ghostly pale skin, a cigarette seen dangling from his fingers more often than not. The most tentative observer would note that he never wears a shirt that comes above the elbow and doesn't show anything of his chest or back. He never wears anything other than faded cargo pants that are either olive green or faded black with worn out leather flip flops. The only jewelry he has is a black leather cuff with a single silver buckle on his right wrist and both ears pierced with several steel rings from tip to lobe.

Personality
Hardly any words are ever stated when Abel is out and about, giving more of a nod of his head or a smile than actually speaking. Otherwise he quietly goes about his own way, trying to be a wall flower despite sticking out like a sore thumb to the citizens of Shivering Bay.

The shop keepers to the stores he does frequent often have cracked his shell somewhat, finding that he's quite polite and soft spoken. By their accounts he's quite the gentleman. Or is he?

Bio
The only real papertrail, whether physical or digital, starts in Shivering Bay with Abel Revnik renting one of the most expensive houses directly on the south beach. Even his name wasn't publically known until a clerk at city hall dug up the paperwork since the house was being rented out by them, the previous owner having passed away from old age. When his name is plugged into the system nothing pops up in the police database for anywhere in the world. It's as if he came out of thin air.

On a day to day basis the citizens keep a watchful eye on him, of which he is well aware of but it doesn't seem to bother him in the slightest. Mondays he stops at the five and dime store, always purchasing a new spiral bound journal and a pack of clove cigarettes. The cashiers actually started a betting game to see which journal cover color he bought. Wednesdays he makes one quick trip to the bakery, getting a dozen cupcakes. They too have a betting game to see which flavor he gets. Fridays he leisurely strolls through the farmer's market whether they suspect, by deduction of what he buys, is that he's a vegetarian.

All in all Abel Revnik seems to keep to himself, but no one can figure out what he is. There's no wings, no horns, no tail, no fur, he just seems plain which in a world where all of those aspects are every day sightings he's unsettling to those that do have them, which is everyone.