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Lady Storyteller
Apologies for Delay - Homefront Challenges
- Joined
- Apr 19, 2019
- Location
- Central United States
Good Day to You Oh Curious One!
Come, sit a spell for as long as you like, for I know well some can enjoy to tarry, while others are beholden to Time's short leash and must be away if interest does not catch them. To each their own, and I find no offense by if my ideas do not earn a soul's attention - not everyone likes cookies, or candles, or even a rainy day.
A bit about myself: I have scribbled creatively off and on for a very long time, and run and collaborated with writers and gamers for months and sometimes years, even if only to encourage one another in life beyond the screen; work, family, hobbies, university. I write 3rd Person past-tense, and enjoy escapist tales from Sir Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels (which I'm currently reading), to Star Wars, and even the HBO series "Rome." I run old-school Advanced Dungeons and Dragons tabletop games from time to time. I am quite used to a person showing me their character and shaping a tale around them, and I enjoy playing as well, especially towards the end that the GM has fun.
My Characters: I tend to play women who are in their mid-20s and over, people who have seen some of life and have been shaped by it. Like any person, they have their strengths and flaws - the learners, the curious, the devoted protectors, and the ones seeking revenge, or even just making ends meet. They can be stiff on the outside and softies at heart, or gentle souls with a berserker hidden within. In short, women who can disguise or hide their nature as needed. No matter what, though, they all are auburn redheads of the fair-skinned and full-bodied variety.
Settings for Story Ideas:
Feel free to DM me with any thoughts or ideas.
Here's a Starter:
The sky shone rose with the summer’s coming sunset, cricket song filling the air along with the chatter of Roman soldiers as they made their way into the smoking remains of the barbarian village they had been set to raid after the bloody battle they had just finished. This was to be their prize, their price to take in slaves and gold, in food and fucking. Instead, all they found was the smoldering remains of what had once been houses, huts, and even, upon the small rise of hill that would have been where long-house for the head family stood, there were only a few smoldering pillars of wood, and a plinth of stone as tall and as wide as a man.
Any soldier with eyes would have seen the black shadow it cast, but so too would they have seen the glimmer of gold, the curve of cups, of plates, a flash of precious gems. Offerings to the victors, a hope that perhaps the Romans would take the things and go, never to return.
A figure stepped from the shadow, but far from that of a warrior, the figure was rounded, full, a woman. Her red hair looked the color of leaves in an autumn sunset shot with copper strands as it fell past her bare, freckled shoulders. Even the sparse thatch of hairs that marked her womanhood belied her being a true redhead. The retreating villagers had left her behind, naked and waiting for them tied and gagged to the plinth.
Come, sit a spell for as long as you like, for I know well some can enjoy to tarry, while others are beholden to Time's short leash and must be away if interest does not catch them. To each their own, and I find no offense by if my ideas do not earn a soul's attention - not everyone likes cookies, or candles, or even a rainy day.
A bit about myself: I have scribbled creatively off and on for a very long time, and run and collaborated with writers and gamers for months and sometimes years, even if only to encourage one another in life beyond the screen; work, family, hobbies, university. I write 3rd Person past-tense, and enjoy escapist tales from Sir Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels (which I'm currently reading), to Star Wars, and even the HBO series "Rome." I run old-school Advanced Dungeons and Dragons tabletop games from time to time. I am quite used to a person showing me their character and shaping a tale around them, and I enjoy playing as well, especially towards the end that the GM has fun.
My Characters: I tend to play women who are in their mid-20s and over, people who have seen some of life and have been shaped by it. Like any person, they have their strengths and flaws - the learners, the curious, the devoted protectors, and the ones seeking revenge, or even just making ends meet. They can be stiff on the outside and softies at heart, or gentle souls with a berserker hidden within. In short, women who can disguise or hide their nature as needed. No matter what, though, they all are auburn redheads of the fair-skinned and full-bodied variety.
Settings for Story Ideas:
- Fictionalized Ancient Rome, Egypt, etc. (historical accuracy not needed)
- Star Wars (borrowing the Imperial setting, but maybe an alternate universe, non-canon)
- Fantasy (of course)
Feel free to DM me with any thoughts or ideas.
Here's a Starter:
The sky shone rose with the summer’s coming sunset, cricket song filling the air along with the chatter of Roman soldiers as they made their way into the smoking remains of the barbarian village they had been set to raid after the bloody battle they had just finished. This was to be their prize, their price to take in slaves and gold, in food and fucking. Instead, all they found was the smoldering remains of what had once been houses, huts, and even, upon the small rise of hill that would have been where long-house for the head family stood, there were only a few smoldering pillars of wood, and a plinth of stone as tall and as wide as a man.
Any soldier with eyes would have seen the black shadow it cast, but so too would they have seen the glimmer of gold, the curve of cups, of plates, a flash of precious gems. Offerings to the victors, a hope that perhaps the Romans would take the things and go, never to return.
A figure stepped from the shadow, but far from that of a warrior, the figure was rounded, full, a woman. Her red hair looked the color of leaves in an autumn sunset shot with copper strands as it fell past her bare, freckled shoulders. Even the sparse thatch of hairs that marked her womanhood belied her being a true redhead. The retreating villagers had left her behind, naked and waiting for them tied and gagged to the plinth.
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