[img] https://scontent.fosu2-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.30808-6/710651657_838518515999199_1975316079349113515_n.png?_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=cc71e4&_nc_ohc=tIp-JI5_pyEQ7kNvwETu9Yz&_nc_oc=Adqz-CIaxeTIWUWRUxpB2TYuJuOqt6zu5SVznGsVoanwVtiMkOsIIg1euGum0BQjKwVQRcY-nYh8gKdNlg8IrNwi&_nc_zt=23&_nc_ht=scontent.fosu2-2.fna&_nc_gid=-sLgAU1zzxb5xgK5erOSAA&_nc_ss=7b2a8&oh=00_Af9VpznugIltXGvF54GrXazp378sePj08HbMehlQTUC7Vg&oe=6A24D93C [/img] [color=ed1c24] ────────────█████████ ──────────███║║║║║║║███ ─────────█║║║║║║║║║║║║║█ ────────█║║║║███████║║║║█ ───────█║║║║██─────██║║║║█ ──────█║║║║██───────██║║║║█ ─────█║║║║██─────────██║║║║█ ─────█║║║██───────────██║║║█ ─────█║║║█─────────────█║║║█ ─────█║║║█─────────────█║║║█ ─────█║║║█─────────────█║║║█ ─────█║║║█─────────────█║║║█ ────███████───────────███████ ───██║║║║║║██────────██║║║║║██ ──██║║║║║║║║██──────██║║║║║║║██ ─██║║║║║║║║║║██───██║║║║║║║║║║██ ██║║║║║║║║║║║║█████║║║║║║║║║║║║██ █║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║█ █║║║║║║║║║║║║║█████║║║║║║║║║║║║║█ █║║║║║║║║║║║║█░░░░░█║║║║║║║║║║║║█ █║║║║║║║║║║║║█░░░░░█║║║║║║║║║║║║█ █║║║║║║║║║║║║█░░░░░█║║║║║║║║║║║║█ ██║║║║║║║║║║║█░░░░░█║║║║║║║║║║║██ ██║║║║║║║║║║║║█░░░█║║║║║║║║║║║║██ ─██║║║║║║║║║║║█░░░█║║║║║║║║║║║██ ──██║║║║║║║║║║█░░░█║║║║║║║║║║██ ───██║║║║║║║║║█░░░█║║║║║║║║║██ ────██║║║║║║║║█████║║║║║║║║██ ─────██║║║║║║║║███║║║║║║║║██ ──────██║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║██ ───────██║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║██ ────────██║║║║║║║║║║║║║██ ─────────██║║║║║║║║║║║██ ──────────██║║║║║║║║║██ ───────────██║║║║║║║██ ────────────██║║║║║██ ─────────────██║║║██ ──────────────██║██[/color][color=fff200][i] ─────────────────────── ──────────────────────██████████ ──────────────────────▀████████▀ ────────────────────────▀████▀ ─────────────────────────████ ─────────────────────────████ ─────────────────────────████ ─────────────────────────████ ─────────────────────────████ ─────────────────────────████ ─────────────────────────████ ─────────────────────────████ ──────────────────────▄▄▄████ ──────────────────────▀▀▀████ ──────────────────────▀▀▀████ ──────────────────────▀▀▀████[/i][/color] ☾ Silent Feather's Parlour of Shadows ☽ **Greetings and Salutations, Dear Travelers of the Night,** You have stumbled into my little corner of the world. Part diary. Part sanctuary. Part library of peculiar thoughts. And entirely my safe haven. Do wipe your boots before entering. The ravens have only just finished polishing the moonlight. --- ☾ Of The Woman Behind The Feather ☽ To begin, I am an African American author, poet, storyteller, and unapologetic dream-weaver. I have often been told that I exist several steps ahead of my own era—a compliment I graciously accept, though I suspect it merely means I have always possessed the stubborn habit of wandering where others hesitate to tread. Rules, formulas, and rigid conventions have never held much authority over me. While others march neatly along well-paved roads, I prefer disappearing into strange forests where the signposts have long since rotted away. Some of my finest ideas have emerged from precisely such places. I write what the imagination demands. The story leads. I follow. The results often surprise both my readers and myself. I have spent decades wandering through genres as though they were neighboring kingdoms: historical fiction, dark fantasy, science fiction, gothic horror, romance, mythology, folklore, and countless realms that refuse to fit neatly upon a bookshelf. The stranger the road, the more likely I am to walk it. --- ☾ A Mind Built Differently ☽ My mind has never followed ordinary architecture. It resembles less a neatly organized filing cabinet and more a sprawling gothic cathedral filled with hidden corridors, secret libraries, forgotten staircases, and the occasional dragon sleeping in the basement. Some call this neurodivergence. I simply call it home. I have spent my entire life viewing the world through a lens slightly different from those around me. It has gifted me unique strengths, unusual perspectives, vivid imagination, and a lifelong fascination with the workings of people, stories, and emotions. Being different taught me something invaluable: There is no singular way to be human. Only different ways to experience humanity. Far too often society mistakes difference for deficiency. I respectfully disagree. Some minds sprint. Some dance. Some soar. Mine prefers wandering moonlit graveyards collecting interesting thoughts and turning them into novels. --- ☾ The Curious Case of Words ☽ Long before adulthood arrived with its taxes, responsibilities, and suspiciously expensive groceries, I discovered language. Or perhaps language discovered me. As a child I possessed an unusual fondness for elaborate vocabulary, lengthy descriptions, and speaking as though I had escaped from a Victorian novel and become stranded in the modern era. This occasionally bewildered my peers. Adults, however, tended to understand me rather well. Books became companions. Teachers became mentors. Libraries became sanctuaries. While other children rushed toward playgrounds, I often found myself rushing toward shelves. One can learn a great deal from old books. They rarely interrupt. --- ☾ The First Spark ☽ At the age of eight, I proudly presented my very first novel to an English teacher. It bore the rather dramatic title: **Saga of the Fire Princess.** A magnificent title, if I may say so myself. Unfortunately, the manuscript vanished long ago, likely claimed by the same mysterious dimension responsible for missing socks and lost childhood treasures. Though the story itself was lost, the spark survived. And that spark became a wildfire. Today I have written more than four hundred stories and poems, and the number continues to grow with alarming enthusiasm. My laptop has become less a device and more an endangered habitat for fictional characters. --- ☾ A Few Things Worth Knowing ☽ **Name:** Silent Feather, though many call me Si. **Age:** Thirty-two moons. **Pronouns:** She/Her • They/Them **Orientation:** Lesbian **Nicknames:** Silver, Six, Angel, Lady in Red, Risk **Origin:** The Bronx, New York. A New Yorker by birth. A New Yorker by spirit. And, if fate permits, a New Yorker until my final chapter. **Current Location:** Somewhere within the deepest corridors of my own imagination. The rent is reasonable. The ravens are delightful. The ghosts occasionally steal my bookmarks. --- ☾ Regarding Roleplay ☽ I have been roleplaying since childhood and have accumulated well over two decades of experience crafting worlds, characters, species, legends, and catastrophically poor decisions made by fictional protagonists. Worldbuilding is not merely a hobby. It is an art form. A religion. A delightful affliction. Before engaging in roleplay with me, I kindly request a writing sample. Think of it as less an examination and more a literary handshake. Compatibility matters. Stories deserve chemistry. I primarily write in novella and paragraph format, though I am capable of adapting to the needs of a story. Quality, however, shall always triumph over quantity. Every time. --- ☾ Final Thoughts Before The Ravens Become Restless ☽ Whether you have arrived seeking stories, companionship, roleplay, poetry, or merely a brief stroll through the shadows, you are welcome here. Be respectful. Be creative. Be yourself. Life is far too short to spend pretending to be ordinary. Now then— Pull up a chair. Mind the gargoyle. And do enjoy your stay. **— Silent Feather** --- Invisible No More Once, she was a shadow lingering at the edge of candlelight. Silent Feather had long been a creature of quiet corners and lowered eyes, her spirit wrapped in a shroud of timidity and uncertainty. She drifted through life as one unseen—withdrawn, cautious, and haunted by fears she scarcely understood herself. Even her own emotions felt like phantoms stalking the halls of her mind, and affection, especially from men, was a thing she regarded with suspicion and unease. She preferred silence to attention, solitude to company. Her beautiful earthen-hued eyes seldom met another's gaze, forever cast downward as though burdened by invisible chains. The world was a vast and lonely place, and she wandered through it like a ghost without purpose. Then fate intervened. Through chance, destiny, or perhaps some unseen hand guiding the threads of her story, she crossed paths with a man she believed would be no different than all the others. Yet as time passed and their bond deepened, she discovered something extraordinary beneath the surface. She saw *him.* Not the mask he wore before the world, but the soul hidden beneath it. His sea-green eyes shone like moonlight upon a darkened sea, scattering the shadows that had long dwelled within her heart. In their depths she found herself willingly lost, and unlike every darkness that had come before, this was one from which she never wished to be rescued. Within that sacred realization, she discovered something she had never truly known. Meaning. Belonging. Devotion. Love. Though she trusted no man, she trusted one. And that one was Mister Yewps. He became the reason behind her smiles, the warmth that softened the winter of her spirit, the guiding star that illuminated paths she once believed forever closed to her. Through him she found purpose—not merely to exist, but to live. Not merely to wander, but to belong. And where once she was a brooding, withdrawn soul adrift in endless twilight, she now stands claimed, hopeful, cherished, and blessed. *The saga of a once-lost servant who finally found her home.* **Written by Silent Feather** --- A Letter Beneath the Moon Yewps, Once I believed my life to be nothing more than an endless wheel of repetition—a bleak procession of days fading into one another without meaning or wonder. Then I met you. And everything changed. The world itself seemed altered, as though color had returned to a landscape long buried beneath ash. More importantly, *I* changed. Not into someone different, but into someone greater than I had ever imagined I could become. A woman. A lover. A soul capable of standing proudly instead of hiding in shadows. I cannot fault others for wishing to claim my heart, but it is no longer mine to give. This kitten belongs to her Alpha Hound. To Mister Yewps. And I wear that truth with pride. What we share is not a fleeting affection nor a passing fancy. It is a bond etched deep into the marrow of my being, woven through every heartbeat and every breath. You have strengthened me, guided me, and helped shape me into a better version of myself than I ever thought possible. For that, I cherish you. For that, I adore you. With all my mind. With all my heart. With all my soul. And as long as the moon rises above the darkened world, that devotion shall remain unchanged. **Forever yours,** *Silent Feather 🌙 --- --- --- The Mark of Devotion *"The heart is not a possession to be won by many hands, but a relic entrusted to one worthy keeper."* Beneath moonlit skies and amidst the whispering shadows, I stand bound not by chains, but by devotion. I am not wandering. I am not seeking. I am not available to be claimed. My allegiance was given long ago and remains unwavering. I belong to a singular soul whose trust I have earned and whose trust I treasure above all others. My loyalty is neither temporary nor fleeting; it is steadfast, resolute, and enduring. It is a bond forged through affection, faith, companionship, and mutual understanding. Many may approach. Many may inquire. Many may wish to court my attention. Yet my heart remains closed to all save one. I have already chosen. And I shall choose him again with every passing dawn and every rising moon. --- 🩸 The One I Serve His name is **Master Yewps**. The keeper of my trust. The guardian of my heart. The soul to whom my devotion belongs. Where once I wandered lost within endless corridors of uncertainty, he became the lantern illuminating my path through darkness. Where once loneliness lingered, companionship flourished. Where once there was silence, there is now laughter. I wear the symbol of our bond with pride, not as a mark of ownership, but as a testament to devotion freely given and joyfully embraced. My affection, loyalty, trust, and commitment remain his alone. No rival shall claim them. No stranger shall possess them. No temptation shall diminish them. For my heart has already found its home. --- Forevermore I am a woman grown. A lady of conviction. A creature of shadows and moonlight who has discovered purpose within devotion. I stand proudly beside the one I cherish. Faithful. Loyal. Unwavering. And though the years may pass and countless seasons fade into memory, my commitment shall remain unchanged. For some souls spend a lifetime searching for where they belong. I have already found it. And there, beside him, I shall remain. **Forevermore.** --*Silent Feather* --- ~ Name / Alias: Silent Feather The Scrawl Banditta ~ Age: Unknown — appears Early-30s ~ Appearance: Appears as that of a lithe, ghostlike figure draped in layered black fabrics, feathers woven into their coat. Their mask resembles a bird’s skull carved from obsidian. Their gloves are stained with ink that never washes off. ~ Personality: Quiet but razor‑sharp Speaks rarely, but every word lands like a blade Moves with the grace of a phantom Obsessed with symbols, codes, and hidden messages Loyal only to their own moral code Skills: Master thief Expert in coded writing and sigils Acrobatics and rooftop traversal Silent takedowns Leaves cryptic ink‑marks as warnings or signatures Weaknesses: Haunted by a past betrayal Cannot resist unraveling mysteries Tends to work alone, even when allies would help Calling Card: A single black feather dipped in ink, left at the scene. This is my personal "alter-ego persona" being described. She is called Silent Feather the Banditto. To know her is to fear her. --- Real-life information: (To all I do not know of by acquaintance: I only end up giving off tid-bits, my actual alias is exposed only to those I know and trust, like my Mister on here. Only him.) Natural Birth Gender: I was, is, and am born of Female Gendered (XX) (Symbol for female, by the way, a little dropping of scientific knowledge, in case you did not know the symbols for such) and anatomy (actual picture of what I look like is not listed here). (*Whispers softly* I have intense body dysmorphia, and I have sadly suffered from it ever since childhood). My Sexuality: By nature, I consider myself as naturally Lesbian in Sexuality (I am recently a "proud" out-of-closet one who came out to her family in Elementary school in 5th grade in 2002, and was supported. Not many are as much.) / In real-life I am more leaning toward female anatomy, personality and intellect when it comes to what I prefer. I will not accept any shape, way or form of homophobic insults nor disrespect of my such sexuality. None at all. Tid-bit: Although homosexual in real-life, I am 100% comittedly considered straight for my Mister on here. And only him. 💋 ~ Am I submissive or Dominant: I am submissive by nature, and always take on the Bottom role. ~ Relationship Status: I am Taken / Owned / Wholly Committed to my Mister on here. ~ Job / Services / Roles here: Slave / Servant / Maid / Broodmare at times in our role-plays. ~ Am I seeking: Absolutely not, so I highly suggest that you do not become tempted to try to persuade me to be your Slave / Servant / etc .. etc .. because this Kitten is already "Owned" and "Collared" by a loving, affectionate Mister here. He completes me and nothing or no one will, shall, or ever change that fact, meaning or truth. I have made my choice. A faithful one. Master: [b]Mister Yewps[/b]. [color=ec008c][i]≧◉ᴥ◉≦ [/i][/color] ~~~ [color=f49ac2]*MEW* [/color] ------ ☾ On Matters of Roleplay and Correspondence ☾ Permit me, dear guest, to disclose a matter of some significance before we venture further into the labyrinthine halls of storytelling together. While I possess both the experience and imagination necessary to weave immersive tales from the smallest spark of inspiration—or even from the remnants of an idea scarcely formed—I must confess that I am not a flawless architect of prose. On occasion, typographical errors may find their way between the cracks of otherwise carefully constructed narratives, much like mischievous spirits slipping unnoticed through the corridors of an ancient estate. Perfection, I fear, has always been a privilege reserved for the gods and the dead. I am neither. Merely a devoted author who endeavors, with sincerity and diligence, to offer the finest stories I am capable of creating. There may also come moments when my thoughts wander from the prescribed path of a plot. A character may seize the reins of their own destiny. A scene may bloom unexpectedly. A notion entirely uninvited may drift through the fog and take residence within the narrative. Such occurrences are not acts of disregard, but rather the consequence of what I have come to call my *wandering mind*—a curious beast that occasionally pursues side roads through the forest before remembering where the carriage was originally bound. Should I stray too far from the intended course, I ask only that you notify me with patience and courtesy. A gentle word shall always suffice. I will gladly make every effort to return to the established road and mend whatever confusion may have arisen. I must also confess another truth. I am not always the most graceful creature in matters of social interaction. Certain details may occasionally escape my notice, and some particulars may be forgotten despite my best intentions. Such oversights are never born of malice, indifference, or disrespect. They are simply the imperfections of a mind that often carries more thoughts than it can comfortably organize. Therefore, I humbly request gentleness in correction. Harsh words, hostility, ridicule, or needless cruelty have a tendency to linger within me far longer than they ought. Such things can send me retreating behind locked gates and drawn curtains, where anxiety and detachment become unwelcome companions for some time thereafter. Courtesy, however, accomplishes wonders. A kind correction shall always find a receptive ear. A patient companion shall always find a loyal writing partner. And mutual respect, like the finest vintage wine, only grows richer with age. Thus, should we write together, let us do so as civilized souls beneath moonlit chandeliers—armed with imagination, patience, and the understanding that every great story is ultimately a collaboration between imperfect dreamers. -- Lady Silent Feather --- What tickles my fancy: * Modern * Steam-punk era * Slice-of-life * Horror * Trauma in roleplays * Smut (and lots of it) * Beastiality (animals have sex with humans) * Incest * Dystopian/end of world *Monster/human *Utopian society *Medieval (kingdoms and empires/ heirarchies) *Slave/Master/Switch/Bottom/Top/Submissive/Dominant I have a Master so do not ask! I submit to him and him only! *Assassins *Ninjas *Pregnancy (planned, or unplanned, is a deep rooted fetish of mine) I love Male/Female Male/Male Female/Female Middle ages/Victorian ages/Renaissance/Dark ages Any new ideas Vampires Werewolves Warrior cats Wolves Warlocks Orcs Witches Humans Elves Western Mythology I like to create new worlds and characters Monster/Werewolf Kidnapper/Stealing/ Abduction Slave/Master (Brutal without limits) (I am up for many more ideas if it strikes my fancy) Etc. I am up for anything apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic based I like anything and I have no limits. It can be as dark and as sinful as you want but I do not care of restrictions. I will see you if we roleplay together. Send a message my way and we can soon be in a roleplay! Dislikes: Godmodding (moving my character without my permission) Ghosting without warning or an explanation about why ending roleplay. [hider=My Role-playing Example and skillset of post length] A vision of beauty let herself be known in the distance, riding upon the sturdy back of an ebony, earth brown mare. Appropriately attired, such a Valkyrie was covered in the threads of a rather long, yet ravishingly elegant obsidian black and ruby red hued two-toned gown. Above such an attire she was also held in the intimate embrace of a thick cloak, such fabric hooding her also two toned eyes, one turquoise blue, the other a darkened melanin earthen brown. She appreciated the clothing with keeping out the fresh nip of frost-bitten gusts. Her stomach was quite rotund, heavy with weight, lightly blue veined, and present with the bothersome burden of one child, weighing her down and leaning her forward with intense gravity ever so greatly whenever she attempted to walk but like the brave hunter she was, she did not complain. After all, she was a Queen and Queens had nothing to complain for. Silente, such a sight by name, sighed, her exhaled of breath misting in the frigid air. She was desperate, no, scratch that, she was more than that. She was anxious, so very anxious that her nerves were getting the best of her. She wanted to find her Master's whereabouts, as he had been on the trail of a rival enemy for some time and had not returned as many of his men did. As you would have imagined she was worried, and wanted to be with him, wanted to be held in his arms and hear his heartbeat against her ear as she laid her head against his chest. She wanted to hear about his adventures, wanted to see his smile, wanted to hear his deep, rumbling laugh. After a few months, a child within her belly, a product of their romantic lovemaking was quite the restless one to say the least, causing her to stop every once and again to breathe, to focus, rubbing her sore, bruise-covered middle with a wincing to calm his or her kicks and rolls. She knew that this was an unholy union, that two vampires could not become one, but they did and now she was to get through the outcome in one piece .. hopefully. Vampire births were dangerous, not to mention fatal for the mothers who carried them, vampire or no vampire, and she knew that by the harsh thrashing and kicking that this child would be quite the handfull. She rode on her horse, a strong legged mare, wanting to find her beloved before darkness would fall. She was very highly suspicious about just where he was, wondering as to where he had headed off to with his band of strong men. She knew that he could hold his own, that he was a man of principle and diligence, but she was still impatient that he was not back when he was meant to. She slowed her mare to a gentle trot, scanning the area for her husband, but not having much luck in this endeavor. "Damian, Damian .. are you out here," she called, shouting loudly enough to be heard but so far there was no luck, no positive news. She sighed once more, the air freezing her lungs solid, causing her to cough a few times. As she saw a rock face she headed toward it, praying, hoping that it was bare of people before she chose to approach. She did not wish to fight, nor did she want to. She wanted to rest herself, and her beloved hooved companion before she would head out the next day to find her beloved. "This way, girl," she said, softly pulling on the reigns, clicking her tongue and leading the mare in the direction of just where she needed to go, gently petting her black mane to keep her calm and steady. "That's a good girl," Soon she dismounted, her long black knee length heels heading toward where the rockface was. And upon reaching the overhang, she noticed a young woman, trying to know how to go about introduction without startling her. She bit her lower lip in thought as she stopped upon also seeing a wolf, knowing that it was probably very strictly possessive of it's Master. "Um .. Hello. I mean no harm, have you seen a young man around here?" She asked, holding out a picture of him. She kept holding onto hope that the woman would know. "I am in search of him and he hasn't been back for a few days, today was supposed to be when he was back," She frowned, keeping her heart and mind open to the reality that he was still alive, that he was still out there. That he was still surviving. [/hider] (More to be updated when thought of and added to this list ..) Also, keep in mind that I am more than my character I portray in our roleplay, I may have days where the muse burns out and I am depressed, or have autistic burnout (which I get a lot). I am a chronic multi-mental illness, emotional, developmental and behavioral sufferer so please give me time, I will get back to you the next business day or weekend. I do tend to go through quite a lot in real-life, so please be patient. It goes a long way. Rushing only stresses me out and causes me to shutdown or withdraw. I am an up-front role-player, I will not ghost anyone without explanation. Thank you ever so kindly for reading if you got this far, have a splendid morning, evening, afternoon, or night, wherever in the world you reside. ~ [i][color=ed145b][h1]Silent Feather the Scrawl Banditta[/h1][/color][/i]

<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><img src="https://scontent.fosu2-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.30808-6/710651657_838518515999199_1975316079349113515_n.png?_nc_cat=105&amp;ccb=1-7&amp;_nc_sid=cc71e4&amp;_nc_ohc=tIp-JI5_pyEQ7kNvwETu9Yz&amp;_nc_oc=Adqz-CIaxeTIWUWRUxpB2TYuJuOqt6zu5SVznGsVoanwVtiMkOsIIg1euGum0BQjKwVQRcY-nYh8gKdNlg8IrNwi&amp;_nc_zt=23&amp;_nc_ht=scontent.fosu2-2.fna&amp;_nc_gid=-sLgAU1zzxb5xgK5erOSAA&amp;_nc_ss=7b2a8&amp;oh=00_Af9VpznugIltXGvF54GrXazp378sePj08HbMehlQTUC7Vg&amp;oe=6A24D93C" /><br><br><font color="#ed1c24">────────────█████████<br>──────────███║║║║║║║███<br>─────────█║║║║║║║║║║║║║█<br>────────█║║║║███████║║║║█<br>───────█║║║║██─────██║║║║█<br>──────█║║║║██───────██║║║║█<br>─────█║║║║██─────────██║║║║█<br>─────█║║║██───────────██║║║█<br>─────█║║║█─────────────█║║║█<br>─────█║║║█─────────────█║║║█<br>─────█║║║█─────────────█║║║█<br>─────█║║║█─────────────█║║║█<br>────███████───────────███████<br>───██║║║║║║██────────██║║║║║██<br>──██║║║║║║║║██──────██║║║║║║║██<br>─██║║║║║║║║║║██───██║║║║║║║║║║██<br>██║║║║║║║║║║║║█████║║║║║║║║║║║║██<br>█║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║█<br>█║║║║║║║║║║║║║█████║║║║║║║║║║║║║█<br>█║║║║║║║║║║║║█░░░░░█║║║║║║║║║║║║█<br>█║║║║║║║║║║║║█░░░░░█║║║║║║║║║║║║█<br>█║║║║║║║║║║║║█░░░░░█║║║║║║║║║║║║█<br>██║║║║║║║║║║║█░░░░░█║║║║║║║║║║║██<br>██║║║║║║║║║║║║█░░░█║║║║║║║║║║║║██<br>─██║║║║║║║║║║║█░░░█║║║║║║║║║║║██<br>──██║║║║║║║║║║█░░░█║║║║║║║║║║██<br>───██║║║║║║║║║█░░░█║║║║║║║║║██<br>────██║║║║║║║║█████║║║║║║║║██<br>─────██║║║║║║║║███║║║║║║║║██<br>──────██║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║██<br>───────██║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║██<br>────────██║║║║║║║║║║║║║██<br>─────────██║║║║║║║║║║║██<br>──────────██║║║║║║║║║██<br>───────────██║║║║║║║██<br>────────────██║║║║║██<br>─────────────██║║║██<br>──────────────██║██</font><font color="#fff200"><span class="bb-i">───────────────────────<br>──────────────────────██████████<br>──────────────────────▀████████▀<br>────────────────────────▀████▀<br>─────────────────────────████<br>─────────────────────────████<br>─────────────────────────████<br>─────────────────────────████<br>─────────────────────────████<br>─────────────────────────████<br>─────────────────────────████<br>─────────────────────────████<br>──────────────────────▄▄▄████<br>──────────────────────▀▀▀████<br>──────────────────────▀▀▀████<br>──────────────────────▀▀▀████</span></font><br><br>☾ Silent Feather's Parlour of Shadows ☽<br><br>**Greetings and Salutations, Dear Travelers of the Night,**<br><br>You have stumbled into my little corner of the world.<br><br>Part diary.<br><br>Part sanctuary.<br><br>Part library of peculiar thoughts.<br><br>And entirely my safe haven.<br><br>Do wipe your boots before entering. The ravens have only just finished polishing the moonlight.<br><br>---<br><br>☾ Of The Woman Behind The Feather ☽<br><br>To begin, I am an African American author, poet, storyteller, and unapologetic dream-weaver.<br><br>I have often been told that I exist several steps ahead of my own era—a compliment I graciously accept, though I suspect it merely means I have always possessed the stubborn habit of wandering where others hesitate to tread.<br><br>Rules, formulas, and rigid conventions have never held much authority over me. While others march neatly along well-paved roads, I prefer disappearing into strange forests where the signposts have long since rotted away. Some of my finest ideas have emerged from precisely such places.<br><br>I write what the imagination demands.<br><br>The story leads.<br><br>I follow.<br><br>The results often surprise both my readers and myself.<br><br>I have spent decades wandering through genres as though they were neighboring kingdoms: historical fiction, dark fantasy, science fiction, gothic horror, romance, mythology, folklore, and countless realms that refuse to fit neatly upon a bookshelf.<br><br>The stranger the road, the more likely I am to walk it.<br><br>---<br><br>☾ A Mind Built Differently ☽<br><br>My mind has never followed ordinary architecture.<br><br>It resembles less a neatly organized filing cabinet and more a sprawling gothic cathedral filled with hidden corridors, secret libraries, forgotten staircases, and the occasional dragon sleeping in the basement.<br><br>Some call this neurodivergence.<br><br>I simply call it home.<br><br>I have spent my entire life viewing the world through a lens slightly different from those around me. It has gifted me unique strengths, unusual perspectives, vivid imagination, and a lifelong fascination with the workings of people, stories, and emotions.<br><br>Being different taught me something invaluable:<br><br>There is no singular way to be human.<br><br>Only different ways to experience humanity.<br><br>Far too often society mistakes difference for deficiency.<br><br>I respectfully disagree.<br><br>Some minds sprint.<br><br>Some dance.<br><br>Some soar.<br><br>Mine prefers wandering moonlit graveyards collecting interesting thoughts and turning them into novels.<br><br>---<br><br>☾ The Curious Case of Words ☽<br><br>Long before adulthood arrived with its taxes, responsibilities, and suspiciously expensive groceries, I discovered language.<br><br>Or perhaps language discovered me.<br><br>As a child I possessed an unusual fondness for elaborate vocabulary, lengthy descriptions, and speaking as though I had escaped from a Victorian novel and become stranded in the modern era.<br><br>This occasionally bewildered my peers.<br><br>Adults, however, tended to understand me rather well.<br><br>Books became companions.<br><br>Teachers became mentors.<br><br>Libraries became sanctuaries.<br><br>While other children rushed toward playgrounds, I often found myself rushing toward shelves.<br><br>One can learn a great deal from old books.<br><br>They rarely interrupt.<br><br>---<br><br>☾ The First Spark ☽<br><br>At the age of eight, I proudly presented my very first novel to an English teacher.<br><br>It bore the rather dramatic title:<br><br>**Saga of the Fire Princess.**<br><br>A magnificent title, if I may say so myself.<br><br>Unfortunately, the manuscript vanished long ago, likely claimed by the same mysterious dimension responsible for missing socks and lost childhood treasures.<br><br>Though the story itself was lost, the spark survived.<br><br>And that spark became a wildfire.<br><br>Today I have written more than four hundred stories and poems, and the number continues to grow with alarming enthusiasm.<br><br>My laptop has become less a device and more an endangered habitat for fictional characters.<br><br>---<br><br>☾ A Few Things Worth Knowing ☽<br><br>**Name:** Silent Feather, though many call me Si.<br><br>**Age:** Thirty-two moons.<br><br>**Pronouns:** She/Her • They/Them<br><br>**Orientation:** Lesbian<br><br>**Nicknames:** Silver, Six, Angel, Lady in Red, Risk<br><br>**Origin:** The Bronx, New York.<br><br>A New Yorker by birth.<br><br>A New Yorker by spirit.<br><br>And, if fate permits, a New Yorker until my final chapter.<br><br>**Current Location:**<br>Somewhere within the deepest corridors of my own imagination.<br><br>The rent is reasonable.<br><br>The ravens are delightful.<br><br>The ghosts occasionally steal my bookmarks.<br><br>---<br><br>☾ Regarding Roleplay ☽<br><br>I have been roleplaying since childhood and have accumulated well over two decades of experience crafting worlds, characters, species, legends, and catastrophically poor decisions made by fictional protagonists.<br><br>Worldbuilding is not merely a hobby.<br><br>It is an art form.<br><br>A religion.<br><br>A delightful affliction.<br><br>Before engaging in roleplay with me, I kindly request a writing sample.<br><br>Think of it as less an examination and more a literary handshake.<br><br>Compatibility matters.<br><br>Stories deserve chemistry.<br><br>I primarily write in novella and paragraph format, though I am capable of adapting to the needs of a story.<br><br>Quality, however, shall always triumph over quantity.<br><br>Every time.<br><br>---<br><br>☾ Final Thoughts Before The Ravens Become Restless ☽<br><br>Whether you have arrived seeking stories, companionship, roleplay, poetry, or merely a brief stroll through the shadows, you are welcome here.<br><br>Be respectful.<br><br>Be creative.<br><br>Be yourself.<br><br>Life is far too short to spend pretending to be ordinary.<br><br>Now then—<br><br>Pull up a chair.<br><br>Mind the gargoyle.<br><br>And do enjoy your stay.<br><br>**— Silent Feather**<br><br>---<br><br>Invisible No More<br><br>Once, she was a shadow lingering at the edge of candlelight.<br><br>Silent Feather had long been a creature of quiet corners and lowered eyes, her spirit wrapped in a shroud of timidity and uncertainty. She drifted through life as one unseen—withdrawn, cautious, and haunted by fears she scarcely understood herself. Even her own emotions felt like phantoms stalking the halls of her mind, and affection, especially from men, was a thing she regarded with suspicion and unease.<br><br>She preferred silence to attention, solitude to company. Her beautiful earthen-hued eyes seldom met another's gaze, forever cast downward as though burdened by invisible chains. The world was a vast and lonely place, and she wandered through it like a ghost without purpose.<br><br>Then fate intervened.<br><br>Through chance, destiny, or perhaps some unseen hand guiding the threads of her story, she crossed paths with a man she believed would be no different than all the others. Yet as time passed and their bond deepened, she discovered something extraordinary beneath the surface.<br><br>She saw *him.*<br><br>Not the mask he wore before the world, but the soul hidden beneath it.<br><br>His sea-green eyes shone like moonlight upon a darkened sea, scattering the shadows that had long dwelled within her heart. In their depths she found herself willingly lost, and unlike every darkness that had come before, this was one from which she never wished to be rescued.<br><br>Within that sacred realization, she discovered something she had never truly known.<br><br>Meaning.<br><br>Belonging.<br><br>Devotion.<br><br>Love.<br><br>Though she trusted no man, she trusted one.<br><br>And that one was Mister Yewps.<br><br>He became the reason behind her smiles, the warmth that softened the winter of her spirit, the guiding star that illuminated paths she once believed forever closed to her. Through him she found purpose—not merely to exist, but to live. Not merely to wander, but to belong.<br><br>And where once she was a brooding, withdrawn soul adrift in endless twilight, she now stands claimed, hopeful, cherished, and blessed.<br><br>*The saga of a once-lost servant who finally found her home.*<br><br>**Written by Silent Feather**<br><br>---<br><br>A Letter Beneath the Moon<br><br>Yewps,<br><br>Once I believed my life to be nothing more than an endless wheel of repetition—a bleak procession of days fading into one another without meaning or wonder.<br><br>Then I met you.<br><br>And everything changed.<br><br>The world itself seemed altered, as though color had returned to a landscape long buried beneath ash. More importantly, *I* changed. Not into someone different, but into someone greater than I had ever imagined I could become.<br><br>A woman.<br><br>A lover.<br><br>A soul capable of standing proudly instead of hiding in shadows.<br><br>I cannot fault others for wishing to claim my heart, but it is no longer mine to give.<br><br>This kitten belongs to her Alpha Hound.<br><br>To Mister Yewps.<br><br>And I wear that truth with pride.<br><br>What we share is not a fleeting affection nor a passing fancy. It is a bond etched deep into the marrow of my being, woven through every heartbeat and every breath. You have strengthened me, guided me, and helped shape me into a better version of myself than I ever thought possible.<br><br>For that, I cherish you.<br><br>For that, I adore you.<br><br>With all my mind.<br><br>With all my heart.<br><br>With all my soul.<br><br>And as long as the moon rises above the darkened world, that devotion shall remain unchanged.<br><br>**Forever yours,**<br><br>*Silent Feather 🌙<br><br>---<br>---<br>---<br><br>The Mark of Devotion <br><br>*"The heart is not a possession to be won by many hands, but a relic entrusted to one worthy keeper."*<br><br>Beneath moonlit skies and amidst the whispering shadows, I stand bound not by chains, but by devotion.<br><br>I am not wandering.<br><br>I am not seeking.<br><br>I am not available to be claimed.<br><br>My allegiance was given long ago and remains unwavering.<br><br>I belong to a singular soul whose trust I have earned and whose trust I treasure above all others. My loyalty is neither temporary nor fleeting; it is steadfast, resolute, and enduring. It is a bond forged through affection, faith, companionship, and mutual understanding.<br><br>Many may approach.<br><br>Many may inquire.<br><br>Many may wish to court my attention.<br><br>Yet my heart remains closed to all save one.<br><br>I have already chosen.<br><br>And I shall choose him again with every passing dawn and every rising moon.<br><br>---<br><br>🩸 The One I Serve <br><br>His name is **Master Yewps**.<br><br>The keeper of my trust.<br><br>The guardian of my heart.<br><br>The soul to whom my devotion belongs.<br><br>Where once I wandered lost within endless corridors of uncertainty, he became the lantern illuminating my path through darkness.<br><br>Where once loneliness lingered, companionship flourished.<br><br>Where once there was silence, there is now laughter.<br><br>I wear the symbol of our bond with pride, not as a mark of ownership, but as a testament to devotion freely given and joyfully embraced.<br><br>My affection, loyalty, trust, and commitment remain his alone.<br><br>No rival shall claim them.<br><br>No stranger shall possess them.<br><br>No temptation shall diminish them.<br><br>For my heart has already found its home.<br><br>---<br><br>Forevermore <br><br>I am a woman grown.<br><br>A lady of conviction.<br><br>A creature of shadows and moonlight who has discovered purpose within devotion.<br><br>I stand proudly beside the one I cherish.<br><br>Faithful.<br><br>Loyal.<br><br>Unwavering.<br><br>And though the years may pass and countless seasons fade into memory, my commitment shall remain unchanged.<br><br>For some souls spend a lifetime searching for where they belong.<br><br>I have already found it.<br><br>And there, beside him, I shall remain.<br><br>**Forevermore.**<br><br>--*Silent Feather*<br><br>---<br><br>~ Name / Alias: Silent Feather The Scrawl Banditta<br><br>~ Age: Unknown — appears Early-30s<br><br>~ Appearance: Appears as that of a lithe, ghostlike figure draped in layered black fabrics, feathers woven into their coat. Their mask resembles a bird’s skull carved from obsidian. Their gloves are stained with ink that never washes off.<br><br>~ Personality: Quiet but razor‑sharp<br><br>Speaks rarely, but every word lands like a blade<br><br>Moves with the grace of a phantom<br><br>Obsessed with symbols, codes, and hidden messages<br><br>Loyal only to their own moral code<br><br>Skills: Master thief<br><br>Expert in coded writing and sigils<br><br>Acrobatics and rooftop traversal<br><br>Silent takedowns<br><br>Leaves cryptic ink‑marks as warnings or signatures<br><br>Weaknesses: Haunted by a past betrayal<br><br>Cannot resist unraveling mysteries<br><br>Tends to work alone, even when allies would help<br><br>Calling Card: A single black feather dipped in ink, left at the scene.<br><br>This is my personal "alter-ego persona" being described. She is called Silent Feather the Banditto.<br><br>To know her is to fear her.<br><br>---<br><br>Real-life information: (To all I do not know of by acquaintance: I only end up giving off tid-bits, my actual alias is exposed only to those I know and trust, like my Mister on here. Only him.)<br><br>Natural Birth Gender: I was, is, and am born of Female Gendered (XX) (Symbol for female, by the way, a little dropping of scientific knowledge, in case you did not know the symbols for such) and anatomy (actual picture of what I look like is not listed here). (*Whispers softly* I have intense body dysmorphia, and I have sadly suffered from it ever since childhood).<br><br>My Sexuality: By nature, I consider myself as naturally Lesbian in Sexuality (I am recently a "proud" out-of-closet one who came out to her family in Elementary school in 5th grade in 2002, and was supported. Not many are as much.) / In real-life I am more leaning toward female anatomy, personality and intellect when it comes to what I prefer. I will not accept any shape, way or form of homophobic insults nor disrespect of my such sexuality. None at all. <br><br>Tid-bit: Although homosexual in real-life, I am 100% comittedly considered straight for my Mister on here. And only him. 💋<br><br>~ Am I submissive or Dominant: I am submissive by nature, and always take on the Bottom role.<br><br>~ Relationship Status: I am Taken / Owned / Wholly Committed to my Mister on here.<br><br>~ Job / Services / Roles here: Slave / Servant / Maid / Broodmare at times in our role-plays.<br><br>~ Am I seeking: Absolutely not, so I highly suggest that you do not become tempted to try to persuade me to be your Slave / Servant / etc .. etc .. because this Kitten is already "Owned" and "Collared" by a loving, affectionate Mister here. He completes me and nothing or no one will, shall, or ever change that fact, meaning or truth. I have made my choice. A faithful one.<br><br>Master: <span class="bb-b">Mister Yewps</span>. <font color="#ec008c"><span class="bb-i">≧◉ᴥ◉≦ </span></font> ~~~ <font color="#f49ac2">*MEW* </font> <br><br>------<br><br>☾ On Matters of Roleplay and Correspondence ☾<br><br>Permit me, dear guest, to disclose a matter of some significance before we venture further into the labyrinthine halls of storytelling together.<br><br>While I possess both the experience and imagination necessary to weave immersive tales from the smallest spark of inspiration—or even from the remnants of an idea scarcely formed—I must confess that I am not a flawless architect of prose. On occasion, typographical errors may find their way between the cracks of otherwise carefully constructed narratives, much like mischievous spirits slipping unnoticed through the corridors of an ancient estate.<br><br>Perfection, I fear, has always been a privilege reserved for the gods and the dead.<br><br>I am neither.<br><br>Merely a devoted author who endeavors, with sincerity and diligence, to offer the finest stories I am capable of creating.<br><br>There may also come moments when my thoughts wander from the prescribed path of a plot. A character may seize the reins of their own destiny. A scene may bloom unexpectedly. A notion entirely uninvited may drift through the fog and take residence within the narrative. Such occurrences are not acts of disregard, but rather the consequence of what I have come to call my *wandering mind*—a curious beast that occasionally pursues side roads through the forest before remembering where the carriage was originally bound.<br><br>Should I stray too far from the intended course, I ask only that you notify me with patience and courtesy. A gentle word shall always suffice. I will gladly make every effort to return to the established road and mend whatever confusion may have arisen.<br><br>I must also confess another truth.<br><br>I am not always the most graceful creature in matters of social interaction. Certain details may occasionally escape my notice, and some particulars may be forgotten despite my best intentions. Such oversights are never born of malice, indifference, or disrespect. They are simply the imperfections of a mind that often carries more thoughts than it can comfortably organize.<br><br>Therefore, I humbly request gentleness in correction.<br><br>Harsh words, hostility, ridicule, or needless cruelty have a tendency to linger within me far longer than they ought. Such things can send me retreating behind locked gates and drawn curtains, where anxiety and detachment become unwelcome companions for some time thereafter.<br><br>Courtesy, however, accomplishes wonders.<br><br>A kind correction shall always find a receptive ear.<br><br>A patient companion shall always find a loyal writing partner.<br><br>And mutual respect, like the finest vintage wine, only grows richer with age.<br><br>Thus, should we write together, let us do so as civilized souls beneath moonlit chandeliers—armed with imagination, patience, and the understanding that every great story is ultimately a collaboration between imperfect dreamers.<br><br>-- Lady Silent Feather<br><br>---<br><br>What tickles my fancy: <br><br>* Modern<br>* Steam-punk era<br>* Slice-of-life<br>* Horror<br>* Trauma in roleplays <br>* Smut (and lots of it)<br>* Beastiality (animals have sex with humans)<br>* Incest<br>* Dystopian/end of world<br>*Monster/human<br>*Utopian society<br>*Medieval (kingdoms and empires/ heirarchies)<br>*Slave/Master/Switch/Bottom/Top/Submissive/Dominant<br>I have a Master so do not ask! I submit to him and him only! <br>*Assassins<br>*Ninjas<br>*Pregnancy (planned, or unplanned, is a deep rooted fetish of mine)<br><br>I love<br><br>Male/Female<br>Male/Male<br>Female/Female<br>Middle ages/Victorian ages/Renaissance/Dark ages<br>Any new ideas<br>Vampires<br>Werewolves<br>Warrior cats<br>Wolves<br>Warlocks<br>Orcs<br>Witches<br>Humans<br>Elves<br>Western<br>Mythology<br>I like to create new worlds and characters<br>Monster/Werewolf<br>Kidnapper/Stealing/ Abduction<br>Slave/Master (Brutal without limits)<br>(I am up for many more ideas if it strikes my fancy)<br>Etc.<br><br>I am up for anything apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic based<br><br>I like anything and I have no limits. It can be as dark and as sinful as you want but I do not care of restrictions. I will see you if we roleplay together. Send a message my way and we can soon be in a roleplay! <br><br>Dislikes:<br><br>Godmodding (moving my character without my permission)<br>Ghosting without warning or an explanation about why ending roleplay.<br><br><div class="hider-panel"><div class="hider-heading"><button type="button" class="btn btn-default btn-xs hider-button" data-name="My Role-playing Example and skillset of post length">My Role-playing Example and skillset of post length [+]</button></div><div class="hider-body" style="display: none">A vision of beauty let herself be known in the distance, riding upon the sturdy back of an ebony, earth brown mare. Appropriately attired, such a Valkyrie was covered in the threads of a rather long, yet ravishingly elegant obsidian black and ruby red hued two-toned gown. Above such an attire she was also held in the intimate embrace of a thick cloak, such fabric hooding her also two toned eyes, one turquoise blue, the other a darkened melanin earthen brown. She appreciated the clothing with keeping out the fresh nip of frost-bitten gusts. Her stomach was quite rotund, heavy with weight, lightly blue veined, and present with the bothersome burden of one child, weighing her down and leaning her forward with intense gravity ever so greatly whenever she attempted to walk but like the brave hunter she was, she did not complain.<br><br>After all, she was a Queen and Queens had nothing to complain for.<br><br>Silente, such a sight by name, sighed, her exhaled of breath misting in the frigid air. She was desperate, no, scratch that, she was more than that. She was anxious, so very anxious that her nerves were getting the best of her. She wanted to find her Master's whereabouts, as he had been on the trail of a rival enemy for some time and had not returned as many of his men did. As you would have imagined she was worried, and wanted to be with him, wanted to be held in his arms and hear his heartbeat against her ear as she laid her head against his chest.<br><br>She wanted to hear about his adventures, wanted to see his smile, wanted to hear his deep, rumbling laugh.<br><br>After a few months, a child within her belly, a product of their romantic lovemaking was quite the restless one to say the least, causing her to stop every once and again to breathe, to focus, rubbing her sore, bruise-covered middle with a wincing to calm his or her kicks and rolls. She knew that this was an unholy union, that two vampires could not become one, but they did and now she was to get through the outcome in one piece .. hopefully. Vampire births were dangerous, not to mention fatal for the mothers who carried them, vampire or no vampire, and she knew that by the harsh thrashing and kicking that this child would be quite the handfull. <br><br>She rode on her horse, a strong legged mare, wanting to find her beloved before darkness would fall. She was very highly suspicious about just where he was, wondering as to where he had headed off to with his band of strong men. She knew that he could hold his own, that he was a man of principle and diligence, but she was still impatient that he was not back when he was meant to.<br><br>She slowed her mare to a gentle trot, scanning the area for her husband, but not having much luck in this endeavor. <br><br>"Damian, Damian .. are you out here," she called, shouting loudly enough to be heard but so far there was no luck, no positive news. <br><br>She sighed once more, the air freezing her lungs solid, causing her to cough a few times.<br><br>As she saw a rock face she headed toward it, praying, hoping that it was bare of people before she chose to approach. She did not wish to fight, nor did she want to. She wanted to rest herself, and her beloved hooved companion before she would head out the next day to find her beloved.<br><br>"This way, girl," she said, softly pulling on the reigns, clicking her tongue and leading the mare in the direction of just where she needed to go, gently petting her black mane to keep her calm and steady. "That's a good girl,"<br><br>Soon she dismounted, her long black knee length heels heading toward where the rockface was. And upon reaching the overhang, she noticed a young woman, trying to know how to go about introduction without startling her. She bit her lower lip in thought as she stopped upon also seeing a wolf, knowing that it was probably very strictly possessive of it's Master.<br><br>"Um .. Hello. I mean no harm, have you seen a young man around here?" She asked, holding out a picture of him. She kept holding onto hope that the woman would know. "I am in search of him and he hasn't been back for a few days, today was supposed to be when he was back,"<br><br>She frowned, keeping her heart and mind open to the reality that he was still alive, that he was still out there. <br><br>That he was still surviving.</div></div><br><br>(More to be updated when thought of and added to this list ..)<br><br>Also, keep in mind that I am more than my character I portray in our roleplay, I may have days where the muse burns out and I am depressed, or have autistic burnout (which I get a lot). I am a chronic multi-mental illness, emotional, developmental and behavioral sufferer so please give me time, I will get back to you the next business day or weekend. I do tend to go through quite a lot in real-life, so please be patient. It goes a long way. Rushing only stresses me out and causes me to shutdown or withdraw. I am an up-front role-player, I will not ghost anyone without explanation.<br><br>Thank you ever so kindly for reading if you got this far, have a splendid morning, evening, afternoon, or night, wherever in the world you reside. <br><br>~ <span class="bb-i"><font color="#ed145b"><div class="bb-h1">Silent Feather the Scrawl Banditta</div></font></span></div>