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1 yr ago
That funny feeling of really wanting to write collaboratively but not currently having an idea to set up a whole RP and not vibing with any interest checks.
1 yr ago
How about a Cyberpunk RP though?
2 yrs ago
It is time...
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2 yrs ago
Tenno or not I think it could be fun.
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2 yrs ago
Is that the sound of a Warframe RP I hear?
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Edited because I realised I'm more interested in writing some original stuff as opposed to something fandom-based. At least currently. Still looking for someone to write with!
A bump?
Made a slight edit to emphasize wanting to write something original vs. just fandom stuff.

Also a bump I suppose.
This is the first time I'm posting one of these so I apologise if I miss something that's generally expected to be present. I'm always happy to answer and clarify if need be though.

I'm primarily interested in writing in and creating an original Cyberpunk or Sci-Fi setting. I don't really have a particular limit or preference regarding themes, I just wanna write interesting plots with someone and be able to discuss details and ideas OOC.

I should say I'm not particularly interested in faceclaims or writing up character sheets. This is meant to be more of a collaborative story and while we are of course in control of our respective characters, basically everything in between is fair game and so I trust whoever I write with without needlessly second guessing whether what they wrote is consistent with an image or a character sheet. Maybe I'm not explaining that super well but I do hope it makes sense. Or maybe this is the norm here anyway and I've just been led astray by the few ICs I've read.

A little about me, I'm a guy in my 20s and from Europe. I work most days but I make an active effort to be able to respond at least once a day and while I prefer for my writing partner to be able to do the same I'm also aware that things just do not work out that way and writing under that kind of pressure is the worst kind of writing so honestly communication is all I ask for. I would prefer to write with a female partner but really it's more about matching vibes and writing styles so please don't feel discouraged.

I don't have a minimum on how much needs to be written per response since that's again the wrong kind of pressure for good writing to happen, that's the kind of thing that we can iron out if I haven't already discouraged everyone from responding to this anyway.

Thank you for reading!
Definitely interested.
The prospect of heading outside of Irris had both Arthur and Clark nervous. It seemed funny, in a way, how just a couple of days ago they anxiously smuggled themselves into the city and found themselves in life threatening situation no less than three times. Yet now, with the prospect of returning increasingly uncertain and their journey ahead even more so, the two found themselves walking towards the city gates at a comically slow pace.

Marissa and Morris had sent them off well, with fresh and dried food as well as water and some strawberry wine. Morris had called Arthur over shortly after their conversation with Marissa the night prior, looked the amnesiac up and down and sent him on his way once more. This unusual situation became clearer the following morning when the hulking blacksmith began showing him pieces of armor he had spent all night forging.

"It's not quite enough to make ya a knight but it'll cover what counts, you'd be no good in a full set anyway, too slow, I can tell by lookin' at ya that yer fast." The armor was light but sturdy and it did indeed cover most of the important stuff. Morris did as much as he could with what little time he had, having crafted Arthur a set of arm and leg guards, as well as scalemail that covered his upper body and the waist partially. "Pick any helmet ya like when you leave, most of them'll fit ya just fine." The blacksmith attempted something akin to a pat on the back but instead Arthur found himself clenching his teeth and hoping the man hadn't just dislocated his shoulder.

The gentle clanging of the scales on Arthur's armor was the only thing that filled the silence between him and Clark as they made their way past the fountain now. The sun was still low and most stalls had only just began to lay out their goods. The cricket didn't need to read Arthur's mind to realise something else was going on, that the nerves weren't just from the ridiculous thing they were trying to accomplish, he was nervous too after all, yet he didn't have the heart to bring it up. They had both spent that morning sombre, as if they were leaving family and the more things Marissa packed for them and the more advice Morris gave them the worse they felt. Both had considered staying, both had considered simply saying "We have two of the keys, we can keep them safe right here and no one will get any use out of them for any reason." but neither of them voiced it to the other. Through all the stress and the overwhelming want to stay put, their goal still managed to win over, as though the direction they were headed in was already decided no matter what.

It wasn't until the gates of Irris were fully in sight and far too close to possibly decide to turn back that the silence between the two was broken properly.

Kestrel lay back in her hospital bed, feeling her attention get fractured into pieces. She listened to the conversation happening beside her between the giant man and who she previously saw as a shadow with a skull, now apparently a young woman. In the corner of the room the barely audible sounds emanating from the retro looking television were catching her attention too, live aerial shots of Lafayette Financial Tower were being shown as reporters discussed just what could have went on in there.

Ultimately she decided that watching reminders of what had happened not so long ago was not making her situation any better and she focused more on the duo talking beside her, just about catching their introductions. Kestrel turned to face them, the adhesive of the painkiller patch on her back pulled at her skin and she felt herself jump slightly, as if anticipating another bolt of rogue lightning.

"I'm Kestrel...Hi." She waved faintly at Rosaria and Kane. "I...Make things appear? For a while at least."

"Have you guys had your powers very long? It's been a week for me and I'm honestly still not sure any of this is real."

She made an attempt at sitting up to talk better but the pain in her back cancelled that idea immediately. Instead she realised she felt exhausted. Initially blaming it on the pain before remembering that the exhaustion started far, far earlier. She sensed her powers were involved somehow, and she certainly hadn't used them as much throughout the entire week she had them as she did in the last few hours. Delaying sleep felt like the best course of action, she wanted to meet the people she fought side-by-side with first, and not getting any information would make her too restless to sleep anyway.
Clark regarded Arthur quizzically and thought for a moment before getting up and standing by the door of their room.

Having heard no sound or stray thought that could indicate danger, he motioned to Arthur to remove something and there was little doubt as to what he meant.

Arthur set out the two keys on a table and the pair watched them briefly. One more ordinary looking but quill sized and intricately crafted with an inlaid pearl, the other far stranger, as if a cursed pirate clutched it right down to his watery grave. Similar in size to the first one but with a purple, coral-like bow and a blade of obsidian that seemed to suck up the light around it.

"You said you didn't know where it was, right?" Clark asked and Arthur nodded.

"And the key you had on you when you woke up on that beach?"

Arthur shrugged. "It was all that I woke up with except for the clothes on my back. I just felt like I shouldn't lose it, but I don't know why. I can't remember anything about it."

The pair flinched at the faint sound of a commotion outside the inn. Someone yelled, two bangs echoed. Then silence. The crowd downstairs was audible again. Arthur found himself nearly diving for the table but relaxed once things seemed to normalise.

"I could feel your mind when you were...Looking for that key and it seemed almost like it wasn't you, you know?" Arthur shook his head.

"It seemed more like you knew exactly what you were looking for and where and what you needed to do to get it. Like a man on a mission." Clark continued. "The only time you really get like that is when you're fighting."

The cricket found himself pacing around the room. The floorboards creaked faintly under the tip-tap of his legs.

"There's another thing. I read Delia's mind earlier. It wasn't exactly clear given the circumstances but...The keys unlock something, obviously. One thing, to be exact. Delia seemed reluctant to let it happen but I find it hard to trust her feelings, even ones she'd never express directly."

"She also seemed pretty smug about knowing that there aren't any more keys left in the city, something Edgar seemingly isn't aware of yet."

Arthur tried to process the information as best as he could. Thoughts flooded his mind and the next course of action seemed unclear once again. He woke up not too long ago knowing essentially nothing and found himself knowing even less than before.

And yet as he took a sip of the blueberry tisane, as if hoping to buy himself time to formulate words, his thoughts were quickly interrupted with a yell that seemed to rattle the inn.

"CRICKET!" It was Morris.

The pair rushed downstairs, having pocketed the keys first, with just enough time to witness Gordon's unconscious body slump on the floor of the Hearth.

"Your very rude friend's been askin' about ya."

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