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"There is your world within.
There rid the dragons, root out there the sin.
Your will is law in that small commonweal"
-Gerard Manley Hopkins

To the point:

I am looking for a character of either gender to play in a custom world, and custom setting that has plenty of room for further development. Ideally, a partner would be open to col-labing as far as world building and plot-development, but if they prefer to simply react to my own world and events that is acceptable, so long as there is an effort made to progress the story.

The story being in the capital city of Mirad; Derkios. Your character, by a series of poor choice or plain bad luck, has found themselves in the slave-fighting pits; a city-run program meant to both deal with over-flowing prisons and draw coin from the many travelers in the city with a modest admission and large gambling fees. My character is a cleric of Inos, raised by the Temple of Resolution, a place of both healing and protection. One of the clerics jobs in the city is to tend to the wounded favourites of the fighting pits; so that they may re-enter the ring all the more rapidly. This is how our charters will meet.

There are obviously more details to both the plot and the world, but I'm reluctant to place too much in an interest check, in-case my partner has more ideas to incorporate. But some general notes I won't be changing:
-Magic exists, but is not innate in any individual. It can be obtained one of two ways; bestowed upon by a god/religious order, or through decades or rigorous and devout study (though this is largely frowned upon).
- I am open to having a multitude of races inhabit this world, but I would prefer they all be mostly humanoid.
- This is a ancient fantasy setting, with some inspiration drawn from Roman, Greek, and Kievan history. ie: no technology of any form, upto and including steam or combustion power.

Finally, if you're somehow still interested I have the super obligatory 'rules' section.
i) Write what fits. This is marked as casual; I'm not going to word count my posts or yours. If it's a solo scene, it may be longer, if our characters are having a conversation, I'd rather move things along quickly with only a few lines than have paragraphs of needless description while a character is simply responding 'yes' to a question.
ii) Write when you can. I'm not going to chase you down for a reply, if over a week goes by I might ping you for a reminder, but no more than that. I understand roleplaying is low on the list of priorities and sometimes it's easier to just ghost out, even if it isn't ideal. Basically I'm not going to hold you to a ridged schedule.
iii) Be over 18
iv) PM me if interested. I won't respond to any posts made here.
In Time Enough 3 yrs ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
Olivia didn’t pine. Of course, before it had be she neglecting to reply to friend’s emails from California. Even so it was hardly in her nature worry much as to what others thought of her, and certainly not in her routine to get distracted over a man.

“Narrows? The bloodwork?”
Oliva blinked, horrified at herself and quickly tried to make sense of the data rolling across her screen.

“Right, everything looks normal. Slightly anemic maybe.”
“Four people didn’t hemorrhage from their diets.”
No that would have been the faulty implants he’d helped develop. Some thoughts where better kept quiet, instead of speaking she looked up to the dead body lying four feet away. The skull had been surgically opened on the right side and some obviously decaying brain was spilling onto the table. Doctor Layne still held a bone saw, frown telling that his mask wasn’t doing much for the smell either.

“Did you get it out yet?” The doctor held up a small metallic device about the same size as a thumb in his other gloved hand.
“Power piece still in his spine, but I figured you want to take a look at this first.” He took a step closer, apparently expecting her to pick up the tech which still had bit of brain clinging to it. She did her best not to wrinkle her nose at the idea and instead offered a petri dish for it to be dropped in. The dish was in turn dropped with haste to the counter, Layne pretended not to notice, but even with a mask the corners of his eyes showed signs of a smirk. “It’s getting late, I’ll get the other piece out and you can get a fresh look at them tomorrow.” Olivia alright tapped out of the computer system and was on her way out of the lab. Normally she would be the first to volunteer staying late, normally there weren’t two month dead corpses being dissected. The doctor who couldn't deal with the dead, or the sick she'd found while visiting the residency hospital. It was just something she’d have to get over, preferably before she got into residencies.

Half an hour of washing hands and tending to her lab-coat later, and Olivia allowed herself to reach into her pocket for her phone. No calls, no messages. It wasn’t a surprise, but that didn’t much help the sting. Everything had been going too well for it to be personal, but there was little other way to take the sudden silence. She decidedly turned her thoughts away from Duncan and placed the phone in her pocket, considering possible side effects of neural implants. It lasted until the exited the front door and the buzzing against her tigh evaporated thoughts of work.
Not Duncan. His mother. Enough, she dismissed the call and muted the phone, and continued the walk to her car with a quicker pace. She knew where his lab was, but it wasn’t something she’d planned to visit, especially uninvited. Duncan’s work absorbed him completely but left her grasping, it was his own interest in it which she appreciated more than the material itself. But receiving three calls from his mother in the same time he’d apparently forgotten about her was too much. She punched the address into the GPS system, sanitized her hands then the steering wheel, and pulled out of the parking lot.

It was bigger then she’d imagined. Her expectations had been more in line with an office building, filled with short sighted men hunched over equations for hours. Not an entire factory building decked out in even more security then her own employer’s private company labs. There where two security checkpoints at the entrance of the building, and the handling of her bag and phone by strangers did little to improve her mood. None the less she attempted a smile at the uniformed man behind a large desk.
“Hello, would Dr. Moran be in today?” The man looked at his watch, sighed, then opened a program on desktop.
“Hasn’t checked out yet, but he’s way down in the warehouse. We can’t really reach the guys down there. Aren’t supposed to bother them either.” He looked her over, apparently looking for a missing limb or any sort of emergency that would require him to bend these ‘rules’. Olivia’s smile turned to a full grin, with clenched teeth.
“I’m sure you’re familiar with Dr. Miller by this point, Mr…?” At the name of Miller the formidable man seemed to shrink half a size.
“Keen. Tedd Keen.”
“Well Mr. Keen,”
She placed her cellphone on the desk in front of him, clearly displaying a missed call from the doctor. “She’s been trying to reach me for some time now, and I’m not going to explain to her that no one has heard from her son in three days on my own. So unless you find some way to reach the warehouse, you’re going to have to tell both myself and Dr. Miller exactly why that is, when she calls again in about fifteen minutes.” Isabella Miller’s influence went further than just her son it seemed, as Tedd Keen reached for a large walkie-talkie on his desk, then hesitated.
“Your name miss?”
“Olivia.” She gave the poor man one last smile before moving back to stand beside the seats placed just after the second security point. The small victory had rallied back her optimism and it actually took Duncan’s appearance several minutes later for her to remember that she was annoyed. Not that she had a chance to express as much before he began talking and practically dragging her back wherever he’d just come from.
“Thank you Mr. Keen!” was the only full sentence she managed to get out before disappearing through a series of hallways leading to what appeared to be a set for a science fiction movie. It truly was a warehouse, but in size only. Computers and boards with foreign math where just about the only things she could recognize. “Duncan-“ She tried for the fifth time with the same results. It was possible here that he just couldn’t hear her, everything was buzzing and he looked awfully tried. Her eyes however drifted to the giant holographic interface. The amount of money needed to fund a project- or whatever this was- would be astronomical. Duncan pulled her attention back with half of an explanation she answered nothing. She stared at him with utter confusion and more than a touch of concern, had he even left the lab since she’d last seen him?
“You’re talking about the Time Machine story? I might have read it in high school, scientists invites friends and colleges to see an invention and they all think he’s crazy…” Her eyes wandered again despite herself, he couldn’t be building a time machine, looking for anything that would help explain what the entire operation actually did.
In Time Enough 3 yrs ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay

Name: Oliva Narrows
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Hair: Black
Eyes: Teal
Height: 5’8
Build: Lanky, she is thin and while they’re there, she has little in the way of ‘feminine curves’

Olivia’s mother died when she was three years old. The Narrows where a wealthy name, and a line of young step mothers quickly came into place. These women while often vain and selfish, where never outwardly cruel to Olivia, still she was quiet and often made others uncomfortable. Without a proper mother a child’s presence was very misplaced and unwanted in a house of business men and socialites, so she was sent away to boarding school at 10 years. Harthfield School for Girls was probably the best decision ever made for Olivia, consciously or not. There where strict rule which she appreciated while others rebelled, but most importantly it taught her proper social skills. The strange, staring, girl sulking in the corners of her father’s office turned to a respectable and nearly friendly young woman in seven years. The California weather suited her, and she found interest in both medicine and technology.

She never grew close to her father, though their relationship grew to something akin to respect if not fondness. They spoke at Christmas and occasionally met over the summers, but Joseph Narrows was a business man who’s idea of fatherhood was a large allowance. He paid for her education, first at Caltech then UNM, all that was not covered by the number of scholarships she was awarded, as well as simply furnished apartments in both cities. At Caltech she rebuilt a small social circle and adjusted quickly to learning in a larger and co-ed environment. She even kept a somewhat steady boyfriend for her second and third year but the man and relationship where stagnant and she ended it in favour of devoting even more of her time for medical school prep.

Moving to New Mexico was a greater shift then either boarding school or Caltech had been, the amount of work she put in to maintain her spectacular GPA did not allow time for making new friends in the new city, and most of her contact with past friends had fizzled out. Her dedication and tech background did catch the eye of professor, Dr. Tenwin who had been teaching his last semester at UNM before leaving to pursue full time research with Relicus Cybernetics Corp. The summer following her second year at medical school Olivia was offered the choice to continue advancing her degree, or join the professor in development of human cybernetics. It wasn’t much a decision for her. Within a week she discussed her situation to the admissions office and left the school, always intending to return once she had a secure enough position in the field.

Work is life for Olivia, throughout university she was never one to go when there was the option of studying, strictly needed or not. She prefers action to only learning about something, though both are better choices then idleness, but she doesn’t regularly indulge in ‘theories’ scientific or otherwise. The arts have never held much interest for her and little to none of her reading is ever fiction. Her family was at best untraditional, and her close and happy relationships are those with friends. She enjoys acts of small dry humor which can be easily missed in her rather quiet and professional persona.

Mild OCD traits, such as compulsive handwashing and need for cleanliness.
Has a horse named Anette in a Vermont country home

Driven, smart, punctual, usually charming
Stubborn, impatient, easily agitated (which often leads to rudeness)
Working, self-improvement, cleanliness, horses
Waiting, idleness, the cold, fast food, cats
Mysophobia (germaphobe)

Okay if there aren't too many people I would like to commit to making a hunter for this roleplay.
Wont be able to 100% commit until day after tomorrow but interested. So ready to get my Halloween on!
Out for day but I'll have something up for tomorrow. Hopefully the others return as well!
Some found blessings peaceful, an act of meditation. It was rare for Aishla to feel such reverence, and she recognized only the tedium they made. But today was worse, more than a simple impatience. Something twisted in her stomach as her sister's voice chanted softly. Sweat began to dampen the hair touching her neck, despite the cold breeze. She closed her eyes, and breathed, trying to find the meditative state others went to when in communion with the gods, and failed. The nausea persisted; a blatant refusal from the gods to grant her safety. Aishla was standing again before Shytora could bid goodbye.

"Good hunt" Aishla only nodded in response, lips pressed to a hard line, turned, and walked away quickly. The grip on her stomach didn't loosen until she came into sight of Koric, and even then refused to let go completely. Still, she found herself breathing again as she approached where he was sitting, in a quiet conversation with Jeel. Her husband looked to her at the sound of footsteps and stood in greeting, Jeel remained seated, it was Aishla who bowed her head and raised a hand to her forehead, half greeting and half apology for interrupting. Jeel only nodded in response, barely glancing at her before nodding at Koric.

"You will be going then" The middle aged man said, stood, and walked away without further acknowledgment or explanation. Before she could speak, Koric was handing Aishla her spear and guiding her away; both their packs in his other hand.

"It's past time we left" This earned him a frown, but Aishla trusted her husband enough not to make a scene in the center of their makeshift village. People were already looking at Koric. With no other ceremony, they left. A few moments out from the tribe she tried to ask.

"Has something happened?" Her mind went first to her father. Which wouldn't make much sense. He would be with a large group, slow moving. They wouldn't reach their destinations for at least another two days. Koric ignored her question, instead walking ahead of her, still carrying two packs.

"Koric" she called, slight annoyance quickly igniting to proper anger. They hadn't even begun their journey and there were to many ill omens for Aishla to be anything but on edge. Still he remained silent, and lead. That too was an insult. Koric was no scout, a warrior as all men. It was to her to lead, he wasn't even meant to come.

She stopped after nearly an hour she stopped. It took Koric a few moments to notice; his own footsteps so comparatively loud. But he did turn eventually with a look of consternation to rival his wife's. Aishla didn't flinch, instead waiting for him to return to where she stood.

"We need to keep moving," Aishla tilted her head, letting a few beats pass before speaking.
"What did the Jeel say to you?" Koric's face twisted further,  it wasn't only her he seemed angry with. Aishla relaxed her posture and took her bag from him.
"If it is something about today I need to know." she softened her voice and sat down.
"We don't know where outsiders may be hiding, speak quick and quiet." Koric did not sit down, but sighed and finally began to speak.
"It is the All - Leader.  Jeel believes he is crossing his bounds"
"What bounds?"
"Jeel says he is too involved in the outsiders to the east."
Aishla frowned, those they would be attacking withing the fortnight, business of the war - leader.
"How so?"
"He forbade Jeel to follow your father, among others. Told them it was to strengthen the tribe."
"In what way?"
Koric shrugged,
"No specifics, though he mentioned something about good fortune in battle. Few feel at ease in the place- so much left by the ones before, and the cold-"
"That is the task of shaman and the tribe mother"
"There are other rumors-"
Koric stopped as a sudden sound came from behind Aishla, who was standing spear in hand barely a moment later. She signaled him to remain quiet. Her stomach twisted again, something wasn't right; but whether it was the conversation or the noise she could not tell. The panic was quickly drowned out with anger as Koric again took lead. His steps loud and ignorant to the twigs and rocks they hit.
She reached out to him, but stopped, breathing in sharply as he tripped. A loud noise followed, Aishla looked to her husband, who was inspecting something twisted around his ankle. She held out her spear, eyes darting the surroundings as her husband freed his ankle and began to stand again.
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