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Recent Statuses

3 mos ago
Current I accidentally closed my main emotional support tabs and I don’t know how to feel
7 likes
6 mos ago
It’s the time of year when I’m ready to find myself a cabin in the woods. I’ll even take THE cabin in the woods as long as I don’t have to deal with people
2 likes
7 mos ago
Skwint do you want to see a root beer commercial?
1 like
7 mos ago
You have just reminded me that Dr. Pepper Zero isn’t available in 6-bottle packs in Canada and now I am salty
1 like
7 mos ago
Yes to pineapple on pizza! Other citrus fruit works too
2 likes

Bio

the writer

  • I was a theatre kid!
  • non fluent polyglot
  • paramedic
  • B horror film lover
  • Dogs are life.


the role player

  • I like most genres.
  • But I really love superheroes, apparently.
  • I'm big on character driven stories and all the twists and turns that come from that.
  • I tend towards darker, grittier stories, or lighter stories with liberal amounts of dark humour. There is little you can do to throw me off.
  • I enjoy writing explicit scenes, but they are not an essential ingredient. I'm here for the story first and foremost.
  • I will try my best to give you what I get in terms of post length.
  • I reuse my characters, settings, and plot points with different people sometimes. You are welcome to do the same.
  • In the words of a GM I admire, your spot at the table's secure. Whenever you're up to participating, grab your seat and jump in. (If I love the story we've been writing I don't care how long ago it was since you last posted- if you're ready to get back into it I'll be waiting!)
  • Check out my 1x1 interest check if you want to see what I'm specifically looking to role play right now. That being said, pitch away if you think I might like it.

Most Recent Posts

Is there some kind of designation- the Midwest, Deep South, etc.

And what is the season?
Where is this located? As in, where are the characters geographically?
How about Sherry Birkin?
Charynrae snickered, delighting in her companion’s frustration. She retired to her bed, listening to the bedsheets rustle as Amal tossed and turned, giggling when he finally stormed off. Pity. She had been half hoping he would try to take care of things himself. She would have been more than happy to send his frustration to new heights with a perfectly timed interruption. Not today, it seemed.

It was strange, being… alone all of a sudden. It shouldn’t have been. He had released her from a prison cell and before that… well, she had been in a community of drow, helping others out of the Underdark. But she had kept to herself for the most part even there. Most of the drow on the surface were followers of Eilistraee and she had little interest in their ways of worship. She was not much for naked singing and dancing in the moonlight.

She almost expected Amal not to return, but return he did. It seemed he had manage to compose himself enough to sleep. She didn’t speak up again, lest she disturb his rest. There would be no fun in it now. And she needed rest, too.

She woke before Amal and got up quietly. She pulled on her leggings before kneeling down at the hearth, poking two fingers into the ash that lay in the pit. She used it to draw a spider on the floorboards before folding herself over, her forehead on her hands on the floor to pray. She could not call herself a priestess of Lolth, not anymore, but so much of her life so far had been all about the Spider Queen, and so she still used it in worship.

Char felt the thrill of this moment of power, but it was different with him. She was used to human men trying to physically demand her presence after a moment like this, thinking it was a game (and it was to her, not so much to them once they tried), but she couldn’t picture Amal doing the same, and, of course, he didn’t. It was like there was some actual respect for her, not just a lust for the exotic.

Not that she didn’t like those with a lust for her kind of exotic. But this was something new and different to her.

She laughed at his sounds of frustration. “A drow, delighting in torture? Unheard of.”

There was a baser instinct that wanted her to forgo the torment and drag him into one of the beds right then, but this was so entertaining. Before she settled on to her cot, she went to him again and pressed one hand to his face, and then planting a kiss on his neck on the other side. “Sweet dreams, Amal,” she murmured into his ear, with what looked like a hint of a smile.
Men could be so spectacularly easy to entice. And yet he was not like many of the others she had encountered; he was so… careful with her. There was still an underlying apprehension that no amount of tenderness could allay.

“Tricks? I imagine so, given what I’ve seen you do with your hands,” she murmured. Well, what she had not seen him do, as it was- a pickpocket who was seen was a poor thief indeed, and Amal was not that.

Once upon a time she might have felt slighted, but today, being called ‘honest’ only made her let out a laugh. And then she felt his hand in her hair, on her neck, and his lips on hers and she leaned into him even further, her tongue pressing back against his. She swung a leg over to straddle his lap, delighting in the taste of his mouth for a few breaths, her hands searching for the scars on his chest, before abruptly pushing herself away, her fingernails digging into his chest.

“We shall continue this another time, I expect?” she said as she pulled away, somehow already missing the feel of his hand in her hair.
“Oh, you certainly do not need love to be a lover, but the drow do not know of love at all. There is none even between parent and child,” said Char in a matter-of-fact tone, shaking her head slowly. “The Underdark is a very backwards place indeed.”

She carefully placed her bottle on the floor by the couch. She felt quite pleasantly drunk; it seemed so strange that he had drunk more than she and yet was not falling over. The perks of being a human, and of being so much larger than she was. She might have been annoyed with it had she not been drinking.

“Up here? Unless there is a surface species, it is probably difficult, as like many things of the Underdark, bookworms don’t do well in light. Although if there is a surface species, I imagine there are more than enough petty nobles that would be interested in their purchase.” It was hard to admit that she actually liked the way he seemed to hang on to every word she said; between her upbringing, where people would only listen so closely in order to rip every word apart, and now, when people mostly avoided her, it was a strange and uncomfortable feeling to get used to.

“Well, there isn’t anyone up here whose library I want to destroy. And going back to the Underdark would be a death sentence for me, so…” She offered a shrug before leaning in, her hand reaching out to cradle his face. “You would do well down there, I think,” she said, tracing down from his temple, pausing to define the angle of his jaw. “You’re entertaining… sturdy… dependable,” she continued, feather-light fingers drifting along his chin, neck, and chest in turn. At the same time her eyes narrowed as she looked at him, apprising him like one would an animal gone to market. “Pretty enough for a human.”

And unlike many humans, he had not turn and run on meeting her.
Char was quiet for a moment, pondering his question as she took a drink, relishing in the pleasant burn. “Is that a common belief? That we can read our bedmate’s minds?” she finally said with a laugh. “No, we can do nothing of the sort. Although… you do know the drow have no word for love? And so lovers as you might think of them don’t really exist for us.”

It had been quite the shock when she discovered the approach of surface-dwellers to interpersonal relationships. She had known they were different from the drow, but the absurd amount of trust that was just freely given boggled the mind.

“Well, seeing as you have already told me a story… up here, I am told a bookworm is an endearing term for someone who is always reading. In the Underdark, it is… well, being called a bookworm would be a source of pride and of fury. You see, just like up here, noble families in the Underdark often keep libraries and treasure their contents. Well, as much as a drow can treasure anything.” Her voice was haughty as ever, the disdain for her own kind dripping from the word.

“So, sometimes you want to *hurt* someone, but you don’t want to deal with any immediate consequences, yes?” she said, nonchalant and yet… gleeful as she described the destructive creatures. “So you could simply obtain a few bookworms, unleash them in the library while on a visit to a rival house, and destroy an entire collection before anyone notices. Not only do they multiply quite quickly once they have a source of food, some varieties excrete acid after ingesting enough ink and result in damage to other fixtures as they seek out more books.”

She took a swig from her bottle and paused for a moment in thought. “You could still be caught, of course, if they were seen before arriving at the target, or if there had been no other visitors in some time, but it was quite easy to get away with. Needless to say, they could be difficult to obtain.”
@POOHEAD189 Did you draw that?
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