Tada.
Kaithe Dame Member
Vylinius of Varathia
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Status
Recent Statuses
3 days ago
Rain over the ocean, and herself amid the waves, sinking.
1
like
4 mos ago
Biseual Harem RP but all they do is watch Sopranos and then quote the YouTube Poops to each other during sex
5
likes
1 yr ago
'SHINE. It liked that name. S H I N E.'
1
like
2 yrs ago
Deny / Defense / Depose.
8
likes
Bio
I like writing about strange people put into uncomfortable situations that force them to think creatively to overcome them. Brain worms currently include the Yakuza franchise, The Last Sovereign JRPG, Dragon Age, WH40K, Disco Elysium, and True Detective. Writing sample down below.
docs.google.com/document/d/1lqyAAPIJh…
docs.google.com/document/d/1lqyAAPIJh…
Most Recent Posts
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In
Perhaps, the ░░░░ is Hell. [Signalis / Star Wars or WH40K crossbreed.]
→
3 yrs ago
Forum: 1x1 Interest Checks
This post is looking for a GM. I have posts where I GM in my profile, or, if you just want something that's much kinder and happier.
Trigger warning; mutual albeit toxic love. Violence. Borderline slavery and abuse in the workplace.
It occurs to me a WH40K 'not-quite' crossover would probably also work. Note to self for the future; probably touching on similar grounds albeit on a Hive World and a psyker instead of a Force Sensitive and poking fun at Games Workshop for failing to continue the storyline.
Hey there. For every person that happens to be interested in Signalis and Star Wars whether they know it or not, I've decided to create a mashup of involving my favorite part of Star Wars; episode 2 of season 2 of Visions. In my addled imagination of the way this might come together the story is an strange and 'not-quite-right' view of Star Wars similar to the way Screecher's Ridge presents the Sith Mother; whether or not quite like that or not depending on further workshopping of the prompt. The Force, the politics of the galaxy and its Sith and Jedi; none of them should be normal, and instead experiencing shifts of character and presence that cannot be rationalized. Maybe this world is entirely detached from Star Wars and is just an AU, maybe it's in the delirious mind of the main character, or maybe it's a fun bit of meta commentary on how 'nothing changes' in Star Wars due to corporate creativity rot.
In essence, pulling at that late-game text of Signalis from Andler --
"IT'S LIKE EVERYTHING WAS TAKEN APART AND PUT TOGETHER BY SOMEBODY WHO DOESN'T UNDERSTAND HOW IT WORKS."
This, in theory, frames the entire RP. More than simply giving some love to a piece of love to my new favorite Indie title, it, hopefully, will allow us to explore a whole new series of angles to Star Wars. Probably mildly disturbing ones; all the Yuuzhan Vong fans will probably be raving over all the weird flesh horror they get to do. The main character in my head is a woman like Daal; a Force-gifted working within the confines of an industrial world, toiling away like millions of others with only the dreams of a better life keeping her going. In our version of it however, I'm imagining that they've developed a sickening, obsessive relationship with a childhood friend of theirs, one that further fuels their desire to become a Sith and free themselves from the urban hell of their homeworld . . . and probably slap a slave collar on them.
This should be a toxic relationship. One bent on control and domination and strength, bordering on the edge of sanity in just how impulsive and inescapable all their thoughts are on this person they've fallen in love with. The main character dreams of giving both of them a better life together, but they also dream of doing horrible and unspeakable things to them; whether because they're a broken individual, or because of the Dark Side, or . . .
You probably get the idea, reader. This is a warped love story from the perspective of a deeply insecure, self-hating Sith apprentice who despises herself for not being strong enough to kill their overseers and free their friends; but not for what's supposed to be altruistic, heroic reasons.
They've got a sick mind.
As far as kinks are concerned in this story despite the extremely dark and triggering material up above I don't actually enjoy most extreme fetishes. Complicated emotions, aspects of dominance and submission (sexually and platonically), kissing, sapphic longing and yearning, spankings, collars, contrasts of all kind, 'I want to kiss and hold you but I also want to strangle you but I won't,' orgasm denial and control as well as overstimulation, underdogs 'getting the girl.'
Most vanilla and lukewarm kinks in general. I won't touch anything relating to futa, tentacles, unrealistic or exaggerated anything, toys, animals, my character will not engage in non-con, If you have any extreme kink, it probably goes here.
This post is looking for a GM. If you're looking for a GM, feel free to look at my GM4A posts in my profile. I'm an advanced-novella writer with writing samples that I'll be requesting from my readers as well. IRL gender isn't relevant to this prompt.
I've broad broad concepts for this RP, both of which involve, naturally, VAMPIRES. The two scenarios I've got envisioned in my head are quite polar opposites to one another and involve contrary main characters; an Ulrika-like heroine who travels the breadth of the Old World saving cats from trees, saving Brettonians from walking trees and literacy, saving Emperors from inbreeding, all that jazz. It'd be a very heavily swashbuckling adventure story about saving the world, girls kissing girls, girls biting girls, skaven getting their heads ripped off, all that fun stuff.
In the opposite corner we've got what I'm imagining as a newly risen lady from Sylvania, low on the totem pole and focusing more on the diabolical politicking side of things, focusing on the casual loss of life in Sylvania, the witchhunting, economics, warfare -- this is by far the more 'complicated' of the bunch. I'd expect to see a low-level vampiress wage war with a quill, fang, and the blades of her kin alike. I'm imagining them as a pretty pro-living type of gal, insofar as in a way Settra would view all of his subjects as being equally his property.
Kinks vary between these two, but, the former is a service dominant and the latter is a pretty harsh, cruel sort of domme; no extreme kinks. Emphasis on spankings, kissing, WLW, orgasm denial and control, overstimulation, experienced partners / inexperienced partners, eccentricism, intelligent banter, flirting and foreplay . . . mostly a lot of vanilla and lukewarm stuff. I use Discord for OOC chatter.
I've broad broad concepts for this RP, both of which involve, naturally, VAMPIRES. The two scenarios I've got envisioned in my head are quite polar opposites to one another and involve contrary main characters; an Ulrika-like heroine who travels the breadth of the Old World saving cats from trees, saving Brettonians from walking trees and literacy, saving Emperors from inbreeding, all that jazz. It'd be a very heavily swashbuckling adventure story about saving the world, girls kissing girls, girls biting girls, skaven getting their heads ripped off, all that fun stuff.
In the opposite corner we've got what I'm imagining as a newly risen lady from Sylvania, low on the totem pole and focusing more on the diabolical politicking side of things, focusing on the casual loss of life in Sylvania, the witchhunting, economics, warfare -- this is by far the more 'complicated' of the bunch. I'd expect to see a low-level vampiress wage war with a quill, fang, and the blades of her kin alike. I'm imagining them as a pretty pro-living type of gal, insofar as in a way Settra would view all of his subjects as being equally his property.
Kinks vary between these two, but, the former is a service dominant and the latter is a pretty harsh, cruel sort of domme; no extreme kinks. Emphasis on spankings, kissing, WLW, orgasm denial and control, overstimulation, experienced partners / inexperienced partners, eccentricism, intelligent banter, flirting and foreplay . . . mostly a lot of vanilla and lukewarm stuff. I use Discord for OOC chatter.
Bump.
Bump.
Bump.
Bump.
"You were impure iron when the Imperium found you."
There's no condescension in the instructor's voice nor carefully gilded malice reserved for any amongst them who he found especially unworthy. His voice is uniquely egalitarian and generous in its pride, and its pride with which he continues speaking, addressing the one-hundred and thirty of them that still stand before him. There had been twenty more, but they'd collapsed in the twenty-hour hours of meditation, most having the self-respect to drag themselves away before their teachers did.
"No shame shall burden you now. The stains your worlds left upon your bodies and soul have been washed away and left you brothers and sisters that will make fine servants of the Emperor."
Their heads all bow deeper even as the agony in their muscles calcifies, becoming something greater and impossible to describe. None know how much longer the speech will go on for, but none also dare so much as breath loudly, standing perfectly rigid in their white-and-red dress uniforms with their ceremonial blades glittering in the light of the artificial sun. Their own legs began to shake an hour ago. If any of them are to fall, it's themselves, and their eyes began watering long ago, their throats choking with a sob.
"You must understand one thing. One thing above all. When my corpse begins to wither-" A student gasps, horrified at the suggestion. He continues, mercifully ignoring her. "... and when you are challenged, no matter where you are, whether it be a foxhole or the bowels of a cruiser or within the Eye of Terror itself - your duty is to civilization."
That surprises some of them.
Not to the Administratum. Not to victory or even Holy Terra itself.
The offense taken by those in attendance is obvious - and he basks in it, staring them all down as if they were enemies suitable for his boot. He is three centuries old and leaning on a cane made of nothing but simple wood, unarmed, and he is unafraid, voice snapping with impossible youth.
"It is civilization! No other species before ours has accomplished half as much as Humanity, no other has bent the galaxy towards serving its needs such as we have done; we have broken stars so that they may provide power to cities that span entire worlds whose skies are filled with metal driven from the earth beneath them. Entities older than existence haunt us, and we stand. Aliens beyond number harry us, and we stand."
His voice rises as he grows more animated, coming to life and walking closer to them, brought forward by a wind that carries the blossoms around them.
"The universe was chaos before our arrival. We were not owed glory. It was not destined to us. We took it. We demanded obedience from a galaxy utterly indifferent to itself and branded meaning onto its surface. That is what I have taught you. Meaning. You carry the light of meaning and the spirit of discovery and purpose inside you now, and that is what you will carry no matter where you go."
He swallows, voice hoarse. Whatever rebellion festered in their hearts has been quashed, and now all they do is worry about catching the man as he lumbers away from them towards an array of caps that they have toiled and bled for for over a decade.
"Those beneath you will be found wanting. Always. It is your duty to lead them as shepherds guiding the lost. Their lives will have been without meaning before your arrival whether it be a regiment raised from Death World, Terra itself, Cadia - it matters not. They need you. Believe in their own potential as much as you know of your own, and help them find their own glory."
He picks a cap up off the ancient bench, and it's easy to imagine him sitting down on it, a child, watching the tree grow that hovers above them all.
Smiling, he says, "And you'll need these caps for them to recognize you, commissars."
...
Hiya. The above text serves as a framing for the vibe I'm going for in a story centered around a commissar in this bleak, horrible galaxy humanity has found itself in. I'd like to find a GM interested in a story that encompasses elements of culture shock, exploring the cultures of regiments and worlds, warfare and politics, and the occasional slice of life that comes with campaigning.
Whilst I imagine the roleplay will properly open well after the text up above ends, possibly with the first introduction of our main character to the regiment they've been assigned to, I'd be happy to explore possibilities. I pride myself on flexibility and value the input of my partners above all else, adherence to canon included. WH40K is a vibe to me, not a book that needs to be strictly adhered to for enjoyment to be made possible. This RP can be GRIMDARK, but I'd also like for it to be other things too; beautiful, surreal, inspiring; it's a big galaxy, and that means we should get to see fantastic fauna, alien life, cool supernatural things happening...
Our MC can be a wide spectrum of sexualities and gender orientation and their backstory is on the cutting room floor for the time being, but I'm toying with the idea of them being a lone survivor of Exterminatus carried out on their world, afforded an extraordinary amount of leniency when their world was found wholly guilty of consorting with aliens. It's intended for them to be less of the hammy, sociopathic commissars stereotyped in Dawn of War and more of a genuinely inspiring, emotionally activated person who tries to build connections with the souls they're responsible for. I am a-okay with the RP being deeply critical of the Imperium of Man as an institutions; no 'necessary evil' shit here. The Imperium sucks and is horribly evil and unnecessary, but it's still really cool aesthetically.
I'm supportive of romantic entanglements and NSFW content. If you've seen my other posts you know I approach smut in the same way I approach everything else; very serious until it isn't. I value levity and comedy and think sex is inherently funny, so don't be surprised if the kinkiest scene in our RP has some knee-slappers in it to keep the mood upbeat.
There's no condescension in the instructor's voice nor carefully gilded malice reserved for any amongst them who he found especially unworthy. His voice is uniquely egalitarian and generous in its pride, and its pride with which he continues speaking, addressing the one-hundred and thirty of them that still stand before him. There had been twenty more, but they'd collapsed in the twenty-hour hours of meditation, most having the self-respect to drag themselves away before their teachers did.
"No shame shall burden you now. The stains your worlds left upon your bodies and soul have been washed away and left you brothers and sisters that will make fine servants of the Emperor."
Their heads all bow deeper even as the agony in their muscles calcifies, becoming something greater and impossible to describe. None know how much longer the speech will go on for, but none also dare so much as breath loudly, standing perfectly rigid in their white-and-red dress uniforms with their ceremonial blades glittering in the light of the artificial sun. Their own legs began to shake an hour ago. If any of them are to fall, it's themselves, and their eyes began watering long ago, their throats choking with a sob.
"You must understand one thing. One thing above all. When my corpse begins to wither-" A student gasps, horrified at the suggestion. He continues, mercifully ignoring her. "... and when you are challenged, no matter where you are, whether it be a foxhole or the bowels of a cruiser or within the Eye of Terror itself - your duty is to civilization."
That surprises some of them.
Not to the Administratum. Not to victory or even Holy Terra itself.
The offense taken by those in attendance is obvious - and he basks in it, staring them all down as if they were enemies suitable for his boot. He is three centuries old and leaning on a cane made of nothing but simple wood, unarmed, and he is unafraid, voice snapping with impossible youth.
"It is civilization! No other species before ours has accomplished half as much as Humanity, no other has bent the galaxy towards serving its needs such as we have done; we have broken stars so that they may provide power to cities that span entire worlds whose skies are filled with metal driven from the earth beneath them. Entities older than existence haunt us, and we stand. Aliens beyond number harry us, and we stand."
His voice rises as he grows more animated, coming to life and walking closer to them, brought forward by a wind that carries the blossoms around them.
"The universe was chaos before our arrival. We were not owed glory. It was not destined to us. We took it. We demanded obedience from a galaxy utterly indifferent to itself and branded meaning onto its surface. That is what I have taught you. Meaning. You carry the light of meaning and the spirit of discovery and purpose inside you now, and that is what you will carry no matter where you go."
He swallows, voice hoarse. Whatever rebellion festered in their hearts has been quashed, and now all they do is worry about catching the man as he lumbers away from them towards an array of caps that they have toiled and bled for for over a decade.
"Those beneath you will be found wanting. Always. It is your duty to lead them as shepherds guiding the lost. Their lives will have been without meaning before your arrival whether it be a regiment raised from Death World, Terra itself, Cadia - it matters not. They need you. Believe in their own potential as much as you know of your own, and help them find their own glory."
He picks a cap up off the ancient bench, and it's easy to imagine him sitting down on it, a child, watching the tree grow that hovers above them all.
Smiling, he says, "And you'll need these caps for them to recognize you, commissars."
...
Hiya. The above text serves as a framing for the vibe I'm going for in a story centered around a commissar in this bleak, horrible galaxy humanity has found itself in. I'd like to find a GM interested in a story that encompasses elements of culture shock, exploring the cultures of regiments and worlds, warfare and politics, and the occasional slice of life that comes with campaigning.
Whilst I imagine the roleplay will properly open well after the text up above ends, possibly with the first introduction of our main character to the regiment they've been assigned to, I'd be happy to explore possibilities. I pride myself on flexibility and value the input of my partners above all else, adherence to canon included. WH40K is a vibe to me, not a book that needs to be strictly adhered to for enjoyment to be made possible. This RP can be GRIMDARK, but I'd also like for it to be other things too; beautiful, surreal, inspiring; it's a big galaxy, and that means we should get to see fantastic fauna, alien life, cool supernatural things happening...
Our MC can be a wide spectrum of sexualities and gender orientation and their backstory is on the cutting room floor for the time being, but I'm toying with the idea of them being a lone survivor of Exterminatus carried out on their world, afforded an extraordinary amount of leniency when their world was found wholly guilty of consorting with aliens. It's intended for them to be less of the hammy, sociopathic commissars stereotyped in Dawn of War and more of a genuinely inspiring, emotionally activated person who tries to build connections with the souls they're responsible for. I am a-okay with the RP being deeply critical of the Imperium of Man as an institutions; no 'necessary evil' shit here. The Imperium sucks and is horribly evil and unnecessary, but it's still really cool aesthetically.
I'm supportive of romantic entanglements and NSFW content. If you've seen my other posts you know I approach smut in the same way I approach everything else; very serious until it isn't. I value levity and comedy and think sex is inherently funny, so don't be surprised if the kinkiest scene in our RP has some knee-slappers in it to keep the mood upbeat.
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