Cutie2000

Answers received, thank you. (Topic: Erotic Images and Smut)

@Cutie2000 Hi, long time 1x1 writer here.

Something to keep in mind is that if you're going to write on the public forum, any words you use will trigger Google adsense and will be visible to minors who use the site - both reasons to keep sexual content off the public pages. I understand not wanting to use PMs to write (I had an aversion to it for a long time due to the learning curve of sorting all the different threads for RPs and conversations) but if you don't want to censor yourself, it's the best option for you and your writing partners.

For my own public RPs with sexual content, I "fade to black" as soon as clothes start coming off, maybe after a little very vague build up toward the actual sexual act. The key is a lot of self censoring and, as BrokenPromise said, flowery language that leaves a lot to the imagination.

I came across one of your threads in the 1x1 section for understanding and would say that one definitely belongs in PMs. Even the private RPs I've written that I would consider on the erotic side (which, to be fair, I don't do a lot of) don't go as far with descriptions of nudity and sexual acts - especially sexual coercion which can be a powerful trigger to some readers.

If erotica is your jam and that's really what you want to include to fully flesh out your RPs, I think that adapting to PMs is your safest bet to avoid issues of being too graphic on the public forum. The same note for images, since it's probably not the best idea to be linking ladies in lingerie for under 18 year olds to see.

@Dagger

Thank you so very much for your reply. I was worried that I might have gone too far.

Luckily, I got a reply via PM from one of the Moderators and was told that while I was at the edge, I didn't step over it.

However, in the future, I think I am going to tone down the erotica even farther. I may even go back and tone down the already-posted replies and ask my writing partner to do the same.

Again, thanks!!

"The Enslaved"

Tanna had awoken while her new slave was passed out from exhaustion and sexual release, and she had gone to stand over him, studying him again for a long moment. The blanket she'd laid atop him had slipped down to again reveal his powerful, muscular torso, and she imagined what it would feel like to have him holding her tightly into him as she did with him what Krina had earlier.

But that wasn't going to happen, at least, not any time soon. It would be socially and politically unacceptable -- even dangerous -- for the King's daughter to become lovers with the enemy, whether that lover be a Royal Heir, a Noble Lord, an Army General, or the lowest of male examples, a shackled slave. Of course, as Kyrinn himself had thought to himself earlier, many Noble and Royal women did make use of captured enemy soldiers and their swords. But such encounters were kept secret and the male in question was almost always executed later to ensure no one but the Lady -- and sometimes a trusted servant or Guard -- knew of the interaction.

Tanna had no intention of killing this particular Yornolandian just yet. She hadn't yet cemented her plans for him, but she had ideas.

**************************

The guests to the celebration began arriving well after dark. She had invited all of the Senior Officers and many of the Lieutenants with whom she worked closely or about whom she'd heard heroic news regarding this or previous and recent battles. Some of the men brought their lovers with them: wives, consorts, other men's wives, or -- in the case of the General -- his two adult daughters, whose special relationship with their father was no secret to anyone.

Tanna provided additional women as well, of course, to ensure than none of the men who'd won this battle for her and her father found themselves lonely through the evening. The festivities began with ale, wine, and treats; platters of roasted pig, fowl, and a myriad of other foods were brought in to fill bellies; and then, with more wine, ale, music, and dance -- much of it by semi- or fully-naked slave girls -- other appetites were filled as the celebration devolved into little more than a wild and frantic orgy.

Only two people within the tent remained apart from the wild, sexual activities: Tanna and Kyrinn. The latter was still hidden in the corner behind the curtain, with two guards on his side of the barrier ensuring he remained where he was and half a dozen more on the other side, ensuring that the other guests remained where they were.

Tanna had casually slipped out of the tent for a short walk about the darkness, greeting some of the lesser Officers and Common Soldiers along the way. On such walks, she carried with her a purse of silver coins which she distributed inconspicuously along the way, particularly to the injured or seriously weary.

She spent almost three hours making her rounds before sending the Lieutenant in charge of her Bodyguard back to begin shutting down the orgy and emptying her tent. This was done so in a typical fashion: the sex slaves and many of the consorts took the male celebrators away to their own tents to continue the drinking and fucking.

When Tanna entered her tent again, she smiled at those who remained. They were almost exclusively wives or long time consorts of the most senior Officers, women who -- long ago or even just recently -- had come to be less interested in performing with their lovers the sorts of things those lovers were now doing back in their tents with much younger women. Tanna thanked them for remaining, then gestured to the Guards standing before the curtain. It was pulled back to reveal the fully exposed body of the shackled slave, glistening as the torch light danced upon his oiled skin.

"Ladies," Tanna said with a tempting voice as she moved to Kyrinn and played a finger tip over his rippling muscles -- arms, chest, belly, thighs -- all the while looking into his eyes as her lips were spread in a delightful but devilish smile. Then she looked to the women and announced, "Time for us to have fun, do you not think?"

Tanna returned to her ornate chair -- her traveling throne some called it -- and watched in delight as the other women took their turns with the God-like man. Some only touched him, caressing their hands over his muscles or grasping a certain feature of his, marveling at it. Others kissed him feverishly while others took full advantage of Kyrinn's sword. Once finished, the women would retreat to the multitude of pillows scattered across the floor, again partaking of the food and drink brought to them by Krina, Madley, and the other servants.

Tanna kept her eye on the activity in the corner while visiting with the Ladies who slowly returned to the pillows. One by one, her female guests slipped off into slumber, taxed by the wine and in some cases euphoric release. Tanna herself fell asleep at some point, waking up with a ray of morning sun striking her in the face. She rose slowly, stretched deeply, and accepted a cup of tea poured quickly for her by Madley.

As she sipped at the hot, spicy drink, she looked to the corner and couldn't help but smile. Kyrinn was passed out, his arms and legs still shackled and spread wide, of course. Laying atop him, just as naked and just as unconscious was the wife of one of her most Senior Officers. Tanna couldn't imagine that the embrace between the pair was comfortable for either, but then, after the amount of wine the woman had drank and the amount of ale and wine the women had forced upon Kyrinn, it was doubtful that either of them even realized they were still alive at this point.

Tanna rose and dressed in Field Garb, but before she left to go check the camp, she gave the Lieutenant at the tent's exit orders to get Kyrinn up and around, bathed yet again, and dressed. "Shackled wrists and ankles, Lieutenant. But ... show a little restraint this time around. Get him food and water, and find a secure tent. He's gonna need some rest after his performance last night."

"The Enslaved"

(OOC: This post -- and the role play in general -- has moments of sexual interaction. I have attempted to avoid very explicit material, keeping with RPG's guidelines. If anyone -- particularly a Moderator -- finds that the descriptions are too sexual, please inform me and I will edit them down immediately. I do not want to be banned, but I do want to tell the whole story. If I have erred, I will correct.)

Tanna had only briefly awoken upon the return of her personal servants before drifting back to sleep once again. But the sound of Kyrinn's whispers brought her back to consciousness, and she caught him telling the girls, "Give me a piece of cheese and a drink of that ale, and you can lift my hide and look at my cock."

Peeking through her mass of red hair toward the shackled man, Tanna caught sight of him blowing a kiss, then a second one, and she very nearly giggled again. She wanted to look to the servants as well but to do so would surely indicate that she was no longer asleep. Instead, she kept her eye on the prisoner while listening to the two girls whispering amongst themselves and, sometimes, stifling their giggles.

Ultimately, the bravest of the two, Krina, made her way ever so slowly across the tent to stand near Kyrinn. Her eyes continually darted between his face, his groin, and her Mistress, who she prayed was still fast asleep. She carried with her a small wooden platter, and after whispering words to Tanna's newest slave that Tanna herself couldn't hear, she lifted a piece of cheese from it and reached it out to Kyrinn's mouth.

He took and ate it eagerly, and -- again checking her Mistress -- Krina offered him another. The braver servant girl gestured to the less-so girl, Madley -- still out of Tanna's sight -- who carefully crossed, delivering a metal cup to her before backing a couple of steps. Tanna heard Krina whisper the word ale before carefully putting the cup to the bound man's lips. It spilt upon him, dripping down his chin and jawline to his muscular chest, causing both girls to giggle behind hands over their mouths.

Both of them nearly jumped out of their skins as Tanna softly reminded them, "Payment is due."

In and instant, both servant girls were on their knees, facing Tanna with their heads down as they made repeated apologies regarding their actions and pleas not to be punished. Tanna sat up and let them them blather on before once again reminding them, "Payment is due."

She looked to the shackled man -- to his face, to his groin -- then told the girls, "He promised you a look at his manhood for a piece of cheese and drink of ale."

Neither girl raised her head, let alone interacted with the third slave. But after she asked for food and wine and was expeditiously provided it by Madley, Tanna reassured Krina that she had permission to take a peek. The servant was hesitant, certain that she was going to be punished, but in the end she stood and pulled the deer skin cover from atop the magnificent man's body, once again exposing his manhood to the three females.

Krina stepped back and lowered her eyes to the floor again, but Tanna softly ordered her and the other girl to fill their eyes with their prize for giving the man that for which he'd asked. They did as ordered, of course; Tanna took in the view as well, finding herself once again impressed with what the enemy captive had to offer at the meeting of his thighs.

"Our guest here," Tanna said, slowly rising and taking a seat at one of the little serving tables filled with food and drinks, "is going to be part of the entertainment for the festivities tonight. Do you think our guests will find him entertaining, Krina...? Madley?"

Neither of the young women responded immediately, but upon peeking up and seeing an expectant expression on their Mistress's face, both nodded eagerly, with Krina adding in a soft voice, "You have chosen well, m'lady, as usual."

"Maybe," Tanna said softly as she picked through small chunks of cheese, meat, and fruit on a wooden platter. She let the girls stand there for a long moment of uncertainty before saying, "But looks can often be deceiving. I think, before my guests arrive, that it would be wise to ... test our guest's ability to entertain them. Don't you think so, Krina?"

The servant girl looked up with wide eyes, asking meekly, "Test, m'lady...? How ... how do we ... what is it that...?"

"Remove your clothes and mount our guest," Tanna told the servant with a soft voice, as easily as if she was asking the young woman to fetch a tin of wine or stoke the tent's fire pit. "Let's ensure that ... Kyrinn, yes...? Let's ensure that he is in fact a worthy entertainer, before I embarrass myself before my guests."

Krina had often found herself being offered by her Mistress to men or even women: her service to Tanna was limitless, and that often meant pleasuring Noble or Merchant guests or even an Officer who'd done something heroic and deserved appreciation. But she'd never been asked to test another slave's ability to ... entertain to guests of an upcoming celebration.

And yet it was precisely what she did. Krina slipped out of her clothes to reveal herself -- she was petite compared to her more well rounded Mistress -- straddled the shackled slave's groin, and carefully mounted him. With further, specific directions from Tanna, she performed her duty; her mind was overwhelmed with the conflicting emotions of the pleasure of the moment and the fear of what her Mistress was to do to her after all was done.

And yet, when the lovers had finished, Tanna only ordered Krina to go clean herself up and put Madley to task cleaning up the mess behind in the entertainer's groin. "When you are both finished with that, leave me for a moment, then return and finish with the food and drink."

Both acknowledged their orders, and soon Tanna was once again alone with Kyrinn. She moved back close to him, once again hiding his manhood beneath the deer skin hide. As she reached down and patted his manhood, she told him, "Perform well tonight for my guests, and you will keep this. Do not..."

She said no more. Instead, she called in the guards outside the door and gave them their own orders. They strung up a curtain that -- when pulled closed -- would isolate Kyrinn in his own little corner of the tent. They departed again, and Tanna told the man, "I'm going to finish my nap now. It's going to be a long night, and I want to be well rested."

She retrieved a blanket and laid it over him, then -- without pulling the curtain closed -- returned to her bed. She eyed Kyrinn a long moment, smiling, pleased with what had happened and what was going to happen later on. Madley returned first, and Tanna told her to give their guest more food and ale. Then, she again laid down and drifted off, this time sleeping through the servant's work.

Answers received, thank you. (Topic: Erotic Images and Smut)

Bump.

I'm kind of desperate to know what is or isn't allowed in the public threads regarding erotica.

I considered contacting Mahz, who I assume runs the site (?), but according to his profile page he hasn't even been online for the last 6 months.

If you are writing a story in the threads with erotica in it, will you send me a link so that I can see just what you got away with so that I can then tamp down on my own writing to match?

"The Enslaved"

Tanna flinched a bit at the beating her Lieutenant gave the prisoner, but only because it had surprised her. After the second and third strikes, she casually gestured the Officer to cease, asking again calmly, "Your name?"

"Kyrinn," he grunted. "Kyrinn of Baylon Bay."

"Oh, sorry," she said with a sincere tone. The story of Baylon Bay was a tragic one that went far beyond the invasion of it by Westmoreland forces. "Well, if you have friends and family who survived, I hope they are somewhere safe."

She gave his groin and the still slightly obvious bulge there another glance, smiled, then excused the Guards. The Lieutenant wanted to leave at least 2 mean behind -- possibly including himself -- but when Tanna asked if Kyrinn was a threat of escape, he shook his head.

"I'll be fine, Lieutenant," she told him, sending him on his way. "My servants will back soon to watch over me."

Now alone in the tent with the enemy soldier, Tanna headed for her bed of dozens of downy pillows. She laid down without a word to the man, closed her eyes, and simply drifted off to sleep.

Minutes later, the servants returned with food, water, and drink. They were surprised and even a bit concerned to find no Guards, but seeing that the prisoner seemed very well secured, they just went about their duties quietly, preparing the tent for the evening's celebration.

"The Enslaved"

"The Enslaved"

Lady Tanna of Westmoreland slowed her mount and looked about herself at the carnage of what it would turn out was the last battle of the four year long West Valley War. Scores of her men moaned and writhed in pain from their injuries. Most would die in the hours or days to come. For every still living man, Tanna could see at least one other who made no sounds or movements. This battle -- this war -- had cost her father, the King, very dearly.

"The prisoners?" she asked one of her Lieutenants as she approached him. He gestured toward a nearby hillock. She took one last look about herself, then told the officer, "We're moving out at dawn. Give those who will be able to walk food and water."

"And the others?" the Lieutenant asked, knowing that there wasn't enough of both life sustaining necessities for all. When she only urged her horse forward, he stiffened to attention and confirmed, "Yes, m'lady."

A short ride later, Tanna found almost two hundred enemy soldiers sitting or laying close together, encircled by more of her men. She found another of her officers here, asking, "How many can walk out of here?"

"All of them, m'lady," he responded. "They are all bound or shackled and ready for transport."

When Tanna looked to him with a questioning expression, he gestured his sword to a nearby group of enemy soldiers, all seemingly dead. They were being stripped of their arms, armor, boots, and other valuables by the civilians who followed her force from battle to battle, provided services and scavenging from the dead.

She understood immediately: the Lieutenant had already culled the group, killing the seriously wounded and those who were not ambulatory. "Get them up and on their way now. They leave today."

"For Westmoreland?" he asked with a hopeful tone. It had been a long war for those lucky enough to have survived it, and he wanted to go home just as badly as anyone. But he caught the expression on her face and spoke the next location on his mind: "South, to the slave market of Praul?"

She nodded. "I want one Company to escort these men. The other five will--"

"Three," he interrupted. He bowed his head in apology, then explained, "There are only enough able men left to comprise four Companies, m'lady, not including the injured."

Tanna looked back to her previous location, then out over the vast battlefield. She'd had no idea that so many of the dead had been her own. She had watched and often directed the battle from the relative safety of a nearby, forested hill, giving instructions to Signalmen who then flagged the Officers of the Companies of men on the field. She hadn't always held back from the fighting, often joining in the attack, particularly night ambushes and raids on unsuspecting enemy outposts. But this last fight was destined to be a true killer among battles, and her father had ordered her kept back from the blood and guts of it all, even if it meant shackling her to a pole 'til the killing had ended.

She took a moment to consider the damage of so many lost lives, not just to the army but to the Realm itself. She then ordered, "One company will escort these men to Praul. Two others will escort the injured and our supplies ... what remains of them. I want the fourth to ride out ahead toward Westmoreland and secure food, water, ale ... women. Whatever our heroic troops require."

As the Lieutenant turned to gather his subordinate officers, disseminating the orders to them, Tanna scanned the latest batch of prisoners. Stripped of their armor and in some cases most of their clothes, she could see that some of them were well built men. They would fetch a good deal of coin at Praul's slave market, with many of them being used in mines or in the rebuilding of the towns and cities damaged during the wars that had ravaged not on the West Valley but most of the World in recent times.

Most of the men kept their heads down, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. Their Guards had lost friends, brothers, fathers, and sons in this latest fight, and despite the worth of these men at the market, Tanna's soldiers would not hesitate to skewer an one of them for even hinting at a desire and ability to once again return to fighting.

One of these men, however, raised his head to stare directly at Tanna. She turned her horse to depart, then hesitated to look him over. She marveled at his physique; this was no ordinary fighter, conscripted by his Lord from his job as a farmer or rancher. In the whole of her army, Tanna knew of fewer than a dozen men who might match this man in appearance and rightfully presumed strength.

"Lieutenant!" she called out to the Officer still giving orders to his subordinates. She pointed a long finger directly at the man squatted on the ground and demanded, "Have that one delivered to my tent. I want the stench and filth washed from him first."

Without any more details to her Officer and giving the enemy prisoner one last, emotionless look, Tanna spurred her horse away.

************************

Tanna spent another hour or more surveying the results of the battle and disseminating more orders regarding the living, the dying, and the dead. Back at her lavish tent, she stripped, bathed, and dressed again; her long gown was made of half a dozen sheer layers of delicate silk, each of which on their own would have easily shown off her beautiful, well rounded body but which together only hinted at what she had to offer the right man -- or woman? -- should they begin to be discarded.

The enemy prisoner had been brought from the slave encampment to Tanna's secured area, stripped, and bathed. She would hear later that they had been some ... difficulty getting him to cooperate but that the Guards had taken care of things as they'd deemed necessary.

When she was finally ready to see him again, he was led into her tent, once again shackled wrist to wrist, ankle to ankle, and then wrists to ankles such that he couldn't raise his hands past his waist. He wore only a deer hide tied around his waist; it covered him front and back from his hips nearly to his knees, leaving his marvelous torso on display but hiding his buttocks and manhood.

With four Guards there to protect her, Tanna took a slow walk around the prisoner, giving his God-like physique a long, hungry ogle. He'd been instructed not to speak unless spoken to, and when finally Tanna had made her third circuit around him and ended up standing just out of harms way before him, she did indeed speak.

"I am Lady Tanna of Westmoreland..." she began as she looked him in the eyes with a bit of a victorious smirk on her lips. She continued, "...Commander of the Grand Army of Westmoreland ... and, as you likely understand already, daughter of King Horlock and heir to his throne."

Tanna let her eyes drop to the prisoner's chest and belly, then reached a fingertip out to gently caress it down his front side, from the middle of his muscular chest to his belly button -- which it circled -- and finally to the deer hide cloth wrapped around his waist. She pulled her hand back, looked into his eyes again for a moment, then returned to circling him in an unhurried pace.

"As a prisoner of war, an enemy of Westmoreland," she continued, once again looking him up and down, examining his near perfection as a man, "your life is now in my hands. If I ask these men to kill you, right here, right now..."

She glanced to the Officer amongst the four. He immediately pulled a short sword from his belt and pressed its sharp tip to the prisoner's chest. Behind the shackled man, Tanna gave the Lieutenant a slight shake of her head just for clarification, continuing, "...they will without hesitation."

She reached out and easily pulled loose the knot holding the deer skin around his waist. The hide fell away, leaving the man naked as Tanna resumed her walk slowly around him. When she was before him again, she playfully tilted her head as if trying to look around his shackled wrists and hands as they blocked her view of his personals.

"If I ask them to ... relieve you of your manhood..."

The Lieutenant's sword shifted from the prisoner's chest to his crotch, the sharp point making contact with the sensitive flesh of one inner thigh. Tanna couldn't help but giggle at the man's reaction. She stepped up close to the Lieutenant, reached out to take hold of the hand holding the blade, and steadied it. A single drop of blood escaped from a tiny cut caused by the Officer, Tanna, or both.

"...or if I chose to do it myself," Tanna continued. Her devilish smirk could have been read to mean she was only playing about or was eager to slice off the man's family jewels. Who could really know at this point? She urged back both the sword and its bearer and took her place before the prisoner again. "I would rather not do any of those things just yet. You are quite a man. I haven't seen men like you often, so ... it would be a shame to have to castrate or kill you so soon in our ... relationship."

Tanna turned away and spoke softly to the two female servants who'd been enjoying the show from nearby. They both hurried out, and when she turned back to face the man, Tanna attracted the Lieutenant's attention and gestured. The Guards manhandled the prisoner backwards into a solid wood chair with a slightly tilted back, then altered the way he was shackled; when they were done, he was leaning back in the seat with his wrists shackled to poles at his sides and his ankles shackled to stakes sunk through the cloth covered floor and deep into the hard, packed dirt.

"We're having a celebration," Tanna told him as she gathered his deer skin from the tent's floor and neared him. She opened up the hide and laid it over his groin and thighs, again concealing his more personal area. Giving it one last look, then looking to his face with a smile, she informed him, "You are to part of our entertainment."

She began to step away, then hesitated and looked back. "Please forgive me. I haven't yet asked you your name."

FILLED, thank you. (Ancient slave-becomes-hero roleplay)

Seeking male.

In an ancient, fictional land, slavery is a facet of life.

Your character was taken as a prisoner of war and is to be transported to a distant land to serve as a laborer.

My character is a woman with an unknown and mysterious background who leads the slavers transporting you.

On the road, there will be incidents and adventures that will bring out two characters together and, ultimately, raise you from slavery to something far greater. (I could tell you more, but that would just spoil the surprise, wouldn't it?)

There will be lust and then love, and the two of us writers will have to decide whether we want to keep it in the threads as PG-13 or take some scenes to PM to push it to R or even more. (18+ cowriter needed for this, obviously.)

Looking for someone who will post at least 5 times a week and proofread for spelling, grammar, and punctuation. I'm pretty anal about my writing quality, so I'm looking for a fellow writer who is the same.

"Welcome to New Terra"

"Welcome To New Terra"

Maggie Greer emerged from her stasis bed grimacing and groaning at the stiffness overwhelming her body. She'd expected discomfort after 22 years in hibernation, but this she would have given a 14 on a scale of 1 to 10.

She found a sealed bottle of fortified water in a holder next to the stasis bed right where she'd left it more than two decades earlier. She drank it down slowly, set it aside, let it settle in her stomach, then consumed the adjacent nutrient pack as well.

"Artie?" she asked softly. Getting no answer, Maggie asked, "Artie, you awake?"

The artificial intelligence for Deep Space Settlement Transport New Hope, DSST-1, was supposed to have greeted Maggie upon completion of her reanimation. It hadn't, which didn't honestly surprise Maggie. The leadup to the first manned mission to New Terra -- an ironic description as the crew included 2 males and 6 females -- had been plagued with problems right up until New Hope's departure from Earth Station III.

Maggie called out for the AI again, getting no response. She shrugged and went about her post-reanimation tasks without the computer's company. She stripped out of her sports bra and panties -- standard female attire for stasis -- and soaked for an hour in a tub of hot water laced with revitalizing chemicals.

After a short walk, she was in the quarters she shared with a second Crew Member who -- like the other 5 Crew -- wouldn't be reanimated until Maggie had performed her Systems Checks. She slid open her closet, gave the company issued clothing a look, and sneered. The standard issue crew uniform was a front-zip coverall of pinkish-tan that the very blonde Maggie had always thought made her look like a hotdog dipped into mustard.

Instead, she unzipped the bag of personal gear that she -- like many others -- had slipped onto the ship before departure and hid. She took out a bra and panties set that reminded her that she was a woman, then added a soft-to-the-skin blouse and a pair of yoga-style Spandex shorts. With the addition of a pair of slip-on shoes, she was more comfortable than she had been in a quarter century.

"Fuck you,," Maggie murmured, her words meant for the Mission Supervisor who had so often bitched and moaned about her refusal to wear the standard uniform at all times. She reminded herself of the distance between them, "A hundred fuckin' light years, asshole. Like to see you write me up now, dick."

Maggie checked on her fellow crew members, finding them in perfect hibernation, then wandered forward to the bridge. There she called for Artie again, got no response again, and set about rebooting the computer systems that would tell her all she needed to know about the mission's status.

And ... that was when her eyes bulged and her mouth dropped open. Maggie didn't initially believe what the computer was telling her, and when she finally got the AI's interactive communications to function, she asked, "Artie, how long have we been in stasis? What's the date?"

The AI answered the second question first, then responded to the first inquiry, "The crew has been in stasis for 122 years."

"How can that be?" she asked with a shocked tone. "What the fuck went wrong?"

Artie ignored the profanity per its programming, then began a long explanation about how an unexpected collision with space debris just 6 years out had disabled one of the engines "Primary and secondary communications are out as well. The tertiary communications system is functional but only to send messages, not receive."

Maggie spent the next six hours reviewing the situation, but in the end, there wasn't really much she could do to fix anything. She was a Medical Doctor, awoken first to check on the crew's health prior to their own reanimations. She had only rudimentary training in ship's operations; rebooting the AI had actually been a bit of a stretch for her.

She checked on the crew again, then hit her rack for some much needed sleep. Artie had told her there was no hurry to wake up the crew as -- despite the damage -- the ship was safe and secure and there were still 40 hours left before the others needed to be awoken.

*****************************

In the end, Maggie began reanimations just a couple of hours after she awoke from her 12 hour long nap. After changing into her coveralls -- she still wore her personal undergarments as a silent protest -- Maggie began with the Mission Commander, Helen Davis, who was the oldest member of the crew at 38 and the only one of them to have ever been in stasis for more than the Training Session of 6 months, as had Maggie and all the others back at ES-III.

Then, one by one, the others were brought out of stasis, permitting each of them to have their blessed turn in the hot tub. Helen chose to initially tell them nothing of the ship's troubles and extended hibernation, but eventually, they gathered on the bridge and she filled them in.

"We're fucked," she said, not knowing know how to start the conversation without simply being blunt. "As you all are very aware, the mission was for 4 of the 6 of us to descend to the planet's surface to perform surveys and experiments meant to establish beyond a doubt whether or not New Terra would support human life, while the other 2 processed data up here and kept the ship warmed up for our flight back home in 550 days ... 18 months.

"That's not gonna happen now, though," Helen went on. "We don't have the fuel now to reach New Terra's sun at the required speed for the necessary slingshot maneuver. We have no choice but to descend to the surface."

"And live there?" Maggie asked in shock, adding, "forever ... 'til we die?"

Maggie shrugged. An animated conversation erupted, with some of the crew arguing that there had to be options for a return to Earth while others argued that life on the planet wouldn't be that bad.

"We're here to determine whether or not New Terra will support life," one of them reminded the others. "Well, I guess we're gonna now, whether we like it or not."

"War of the Worlds," one of the crew reminded the others, referring to the often discussed H.G. Wells book in which Earth-invading aliens were stopped not by mankind and its weapons arsenals but by microbes for which the aliens had no immunity.

"Our inoculations will protect us," Maggie promised. "Trust me, they'll work. Decades of advanced, revolutionary genetic work eliminated nearly almost all disease on Earth, and the inoculations that came out of that research will protect against anything New Terra throws at us."

"What about DSST-2 or -3?" someone asked, referring to the Deep Space Settlement Transports that were supposed to be following behind New Hope.

"We're late to the party, guys," Maggie reminded them about their 122 year flight. "They're either not coming or have already been here, and I checked the sensors. There's no sign of another transport, in orbit or on the planet. When they lost contact with us just 6 years in, they probably abandoned the program."

A discussion laced with panic, disappointment, anger, fear, and just about every other similar emotion erupted until Helen finally got control again and said, "We can talk about this more later, but right now, we have procedures to perform for the braking procedure, which begins in less than 8 hours."

Helen issued some orders, and each of them headed out to get their work done. Maggie went to the Med Bay to look at the Crews' medical records and schedule checkups and further inoculations. Only then, when she was alone and certain no one would see or hear her did she begin sobbing.

Seeking male to be "food" for (and love interest of) my vampire.

Bump.

I thought I had an interested writer, but that doesn't seem to be true.

If you want to see my first post, you will find it here: roleplayerguild.com/topics/186654-the…

DO NOT post to it without being accepted by me. I think that's pretty much standard, polite policy around here, isn't it?

Seeking male and/or female for planetary settlement RP

Seeking either or both a male and female writer.

FTLS -- faster than light speed -- travel has been perfected, and the dream of one day sending humans to another star system has finally arrived. A crew of 6 -- 2 men and 4 women -- leaves the Sol System on the Deep Space Survey Ship, "New Hope", bound for the already well scouted New Terra. They are to investigate the planet, determine its suitability for settlement, and report back as to whether ships filled with hundreds or even thousands of settlers should be dispatched from Earth, where life for humans had become untenable.

But upon arriving at New Terra, the crew -- which had been in cryogenic hibernation -- makes a discovery that will change their futures in a way they could never have expected.

Looking for someone who will post 5 times a week minimum with a mix of short, medium, or long posts. Proofreading for spelling, grammar, and punctuation are necessary.

Erotica is an option but not a must, and if written, will be done so in PM.