When the terraformers started converting Mars into a half-habitable planet, the big mining corporations moved in to stake their claims on prime real estate. With the influx of mining operations came their respective colonists of course. And each mega-corp had their own industrial-habitation complex built on various sites across the red planet. That was roughly a hundred and twenty-some years ago.
Mars has since been abandoned.
The mines ran into some seriously fucked-up shit below the surface. Alien ruins is the popular rumor, but the corporations are extremely tight-lipped about it. What can be accounted for, is that sixty-seven years ago all projects on Mars left the planet in a span of months. Hundreds of billions of dollars worth of building expense and equipment were abandoned, just like that. And you know what the worst part is? Not all of the colonists got off-planet before it was deemed a no-travel zone by the UEA (United Earth Amalgamate). So anyone left on Mars was pretty much fucked. The reports showed only a couple hundred unaccounted personnel, but any idiot with half a brain knows that the corporations are full of shit, and guilty as sin. In truth, no one knows how many souls were abandoned in the mines and compounds belonging to the various companies. They were left for dead on the rusty surface of Mars, written off as a loss of revenue. The corporations got away with some bad PR and some heavy fines, but nothing they wouldn't make up for in a couple of years. Interplanetary law is a mess.
Without proper maintenance and parts, the hab-zones eventually started to fall into disrepair. The Terraform Platforms eventually stalled out as well, and the planet-wide atmosphere began to recede. As the air thinned, the radiation came flooding through, and the next generation of children born on Mars were rife with mutations and deformity. It didn't help that a whole cocktail of toxic elements from the mines eventually vented their way up to the surface. Radioactive sludge from chemical dump sites was also an issue, disposed of with impunity as no laws regulated their handling on Mars. All-in-all it was a shit-show, and spelled a hard and caustic existence for the abandoned denizens.
As you can imagine, folks started getting desperate real fast. Most of the facilities on Mars were properly evacuated when the companies pulled out. And all of the empty vacant complexes were summarily looted for anything of worth. They were in essence cannibalized by the colonists, and their contents brought back to home base. Each major complex became a state of government all of their own, often extending themselves to small waystations and outposts. Some tried a more democratic approach in their rulership, others submitted to authoritarianism. Some colonies had more agricultural facilities intact, while others had more mining equipment and vehicles. Others yet had larger numbers of citizens than their distant neighbors. In the end, it became obvious that the scattered colonies were going to have to cooperate with one another if they wanted to achieve any semblance of survival.
That's when the raiding started...
Why negotiate when you can take it, right? Well, that was the mantra of more than a couple of colonies. And once that flood gate was opened, there was no going back. They called this period, the Colonial Wars. This era lasted the better part of fifty years. Every colony treated foreign entities as hostiles, staking outward territories and setting up outposts to warn of incoming marauders. The hab-zones were barricaded with scrap taken from the nonfunctional parts of the compounds, and some colonies even took to living underground in the mines. It was war for years. Countless lives were lost in the long treks across the unforgiving planet. And even more were lost in the fight that awaited them at the end of their journey. Eventually, the largest and most fortified of the colonies drafted a treaty. That colony was known as Argus. They were situated north of the Hellas Basin and were fortunate enough to be in relative close proximity to a half-operational terraform platform as well as three agri-stations. Because of their advantage of resources, Argus had become a magnet to other refugees. Thus, they had established numbers as well. The government in Argus called the treaty The Martian Concord. The pact outlined that the independent colonies would keep to their respective territories, only using specified routes with which they could approach one-another for the purpose of trade or conference. Straying into a territory outside of these routes would be considered grounds for hostile reproach.
The treaty was not taken as it was first written up, of course. There were squabbles, and meetings of leadership, and more squabbles. Territorial lines and routes were redrawn, and redrawn again until an agreement was eventually met upon. Of course, not everyone was in on The Martian Concord. The larger and more equipped colonies were in an agreement of cooperation, so as to preserve their holdings. However, the smaller colonies and outlying settlements far from the terraform centers had little to gain from this pact. These peoples had grown desperate and vicious in the years of warring, and sought little in the way of peace. They were savages. They were raiders. Their lifestyle was gilded in bloodshed and violence, and many of them had committed terrible atrocities in order to survive the Martian wasteland. There was no reintegrating them into the fold of civility. So while the main colonies are in a state of shaky alliance, the raiders still waylay trade caravans and attack the compounds themselves. Not to mention, of course, that raiders are most at odds with rival gangs and clans more than anyone else. With The Martian Concord in effect, defending against the raiders was much easier for the allied colonies. Personnel could be focused against the marauders' attacks instead of other convened colonies. It has been 19 years since the Martian Concord. But despite this relative peace, life on Mars is still extremely harsh. Sandstorms billow up in dirt clouds that can cover the entire planet for months and extreme cold is a constant, especially in regions at the edge and outside of the waning terraformed zones.
This is the Red Planet. This is where the orphaned children of corporate greed went feral. This is where the animals found themselves a new era of humanity. This is where the fleeting atmosphere pulls back, inch by inch every year towards a sure annihilation. This is where radiation and chemical exposure has spawned the new generations with more and more freakish abnormalities. This is where strife and death are a daily promise.
This is Mars.
It is the year 2273 A.D. (Earth Standard)
While the Earth nations have spread their travels to distant worlds, faster than light travel is not yet a thing. Extended trips require that the crew and passengers be put into stasis while computers and highly advanced AI run the show. Terraforming operations are sent to promising planets with a compliment of technicians and farmers to start the conversion process of a world into a habitable region.
With the Earth's natural resources depleting dangerously low, humanity has looked to the other planets in our solar system for answers. Large space stations have been built, their entire purpose to house agricultural bioms in which to grow food. Planets are harvested of their ores and various gases for use as building materials and fuel. Large-scale projects include the mining of the Kuiper belt: The ice in the asteroid ring to be converted to water back in Earth orbit.
While energy weapons have been created, their production on a large scale is extremely costly. Therefore militaries have not adopted these types of arms in place of solid ammunition weapons. However, various other industries have sought to gain from laser and plasma technology.
Automation is the way of the future, and androids and robots are common in almost every workplace as assistants to almost any type of job.
Nanite technology has flourished with the medical advancements of the new age. Diseases and genetic shortfalls can now be actively corrected as a person goes about their day. Sickness is something only seen in the most impoverished of regions of the world.
But of course... none of this matters if you're stuck on Mars.
It has been over sixty years since the last piece of new tech was ever delivered to the planet. Whatever technology survives on Mars, does so by the innovation of the colonists and their progeny. Most medical facilities are inoperable, and those that function only barely do so. Agriculture survives only in the regions closest to the defunct terraform engines, where the atmosphere is still thick and rich despite the decades of non-replenishment. Food is always in high demand and short supply, and the dwindling herds of livestock are carefully counted and rationed. Hydrogen converters work to trickle water into underground reservoirs, and are the most attended and guarded sites on the planet.
Vehicles still operate, but only due to fuel cells and spare parts that were stockpiled in the colonial bases. Transports and other machinery do not operate on fossil fuels on Mars. They either run on fission cells or Industrial Nickle-Hydrogen batteries. Androids, with their much more complicated and high-maintenance nature, are all but scrapped. The industrial robots and mining machines are more resilient and simply built, and have stood the test of time thus far with only minor repair. However, much of the robots were converted to sentries during the colonial wars.
Manufactured firearms are a rarity on Mars. There was never any military presence on the planet, so there were never any huge stockpiles of weapons and ammunition to be distributed amongst the warring colonies. There were small caches of firearms in the colonial armories for their local law enforcement. But much of these munitions were expended in the Colonial Wars. Whatever other equipment could be weaponized, was made so; until every capable laz-cutter and fission cell was retro-fitted into an instrument of death. While manufactured arms are of better quality than most weapons the colonials and raiders can rig together, finding ammunition for those weapons is exceedingly difficult. More often than not, only a few round or a singled clip of ammunition are what the owner of a true firearm has in their possession (if even that).
The last two (or three) generations on Mars suffer from a number of their population being plagued with mutations and genetic disease. This is due to the receding atmosphere once made by the terraforming platforms (now inactive), as well as the chemicals and toxic elements that have leeched out from the various mining operations. While the vast majority of mutations are deformities of varying degrees, they occasionally manifest as beneficial traits that serve to assist the mutated individual in their survival on Mars. Regular humans refer to their mutated kin as Muties. Most mutants are condemned to live in the Martian wasteland outside the defenses of any given colony. This is for fear that their inclusion will only further degrade the gene pool. Even those that are tolerated enough to live in the colonies are often apartheid. Mutants are regularly taken advantage of and mistreated. They are kept as slaves or otherwise given the most undesirable work, crowded into the worst living quarters, and given meager rations. They are often the target of hate crimes, and the colonial authorities tend to turn a blind eye towards crimes against mutants.
Now, don't get to thinking that mutants on Mars have powers like teleportation, lightning blasts, and laser vision. This isn't some far-out comic book universe. No, mutants on Mars are usually just individuals with damaged genes. They are ailed by cancers, organ failure, and all kinds of syndromes. However, there are some anomalies of Martian mutation that have otherwise never been seen before on earth. These peculiarities usually fall into one of the following categories:
Titan
Some babies are born big, and by big I mean B I G. More often than not, the birth has to be done via emergency cesarean. This is especially dangerous because there aren't exactly professional practitioners on the planet and the medical facilities are usually non-op. Opting for a natural birth can be just as detrimental though, as significant tearing of the birth canal can occur and even breakage of the pelvic bones. Did I mention these kids are born big? Yeah, well they just keep getting bigger, and at a high rate of growth too. Titans tent to be at least 6 feet tall y the time they are in their teens, and are grotesquely rippled with musculature. And they keep they don't seem to stop growing. Adult Titans have been seen at over eight feet tall. Needless to say, they have a high metabolism rate and eat triple what a normal human requires. This is kind of a problem on a planet with a scarce food supply.
As you can imagine, all that muscle lends to immense strength. But most of the time, Titans are a bit bumbling and uncoordinated due to the overabundance of that same tissue. The other norm with Titan muties is their short lifespans. They grow so big and so fast that it is a huge strain on their hearts. The life expectancy on Mars isn't exactly high in the first place, but it is rare to see a Titan past their thirties.
For ease of finding a pic for a CS, Titans are akin to the physique of Fallout Supermutants (w/out the green skin)
Psion
Outwardly, Psions don't look any different than any other human. And oftentimes, their identity is not found out until years later in their life (if ever). Psions are characterized by psychic phenomena that has effected their brains. They have abilities ranging from telepathy, telekinesis, clairvoyance, precognition, and different forms of mental manipulation. Usually these abilities are latent as infants, and Psions do not come into the full manifestation of their power until the onset of puberty. A cunning psion might successfully hide their nature from others throughout their entire life, especially if their abilities are tuned to aid in that regard.
These abilities are not without a downside. The augmented neural capacity of a psion offsets their psychological health. Most Psions will suffer from some form of mania, psychosis, or other extreme mental condition. This condition tends to manifest at the same time as their abilities come into bloom. Psions are feared by non-mutants because of their dangerous capacity to manipulate others or object around them, or to learn secrets, or predict outcomes. Therefore, Psions are summarily killed by the edict of most of the colonies.
Ruster
Rusters are the rarest mutants, and named so for their reddish-brown skin tone. Rusters are born looking like gaunt and skeletal semblances of a human, with their skin a hue of deep pink that will darken as they grow up. They are truly ghoulish to behold; sinuous and lanky in form, and utterly bereft of body hair. Though, few ever get to look upon their unshrouded form. Rusters are allergic to sunlight, and must cover their skin from the sun lest they suffer horrible burns. Their eyes are particularly sensitive, and if left unshielded can be rendered blind from long exposure to the light. The respiratory systems of Rusters are also very different than those of humans. They are rejecting of the atmosphere found habitable to them. Instead, they are more purposed for the thin and arid environment on at the far reaches of the terraformed zones where the atmosphere is asphyxiating for any other human variant. This seems to be the only real boon of the Rusters, along with their seeming immunity to the toxic gases leaked from the mines.
It is theorized that Rusters are not created by random mutation. This hypothesis is supported by the fact that they all seem to have the same uniform variations from their human roots: Ruddy skin, an emaciated-looking physique, aversion to sunlight, and the ability to travel passed the edge of "The 'Form" (terraformed atmosphere zones). Popular allegation is that the occurrence of Rusters has something to do with the mythic alien ruins that are speculated to exist deep underground. This is all purely conjecture, or course.
Work in Progress
While there are many colonies that were constructed across the planet, the RP will not encompass all of them. For the sake of feasibility, this setting will focus on the Hellas Cluster: The group of colonies and other structures on, in, and around the Hellas Planitia (or Hellas Basin).
The Hellas Basin is a stretch of plains located in the southern hemisphere of the Martian Highlands. It is the fourth largest impact crater in the solar system (1,400 miles wide, East to West). Because of its low basin floor (Over 23,000 feet deep at it's lowest point), the Hellas Basin is an ideal location for a Terraforming platform. This is because the atmosphere will settle in the huge crater, providing a healthy shelter for the air and allowing it to confine itself within the massive depression. The plains provide ideal regions for farmland, and three Agri-stations are strategically located in the region. They provide food and other resources for the outlying mining colonies built by the Mursen-Tiers Company.
Agri-Station Epsis
01
02
03
Akura-Heins Colony
Argus Colony:
The foremost colony on Mars, Argus is the most fortified and populated structure of all the resurgent communities. It is located in the Southwest of the Iapygia quadrangle. The Argus administration was responsible for the Martian Concord that united the major colonies and brought a relative peace to the planet in the midst of the Colonial Wars. Argus boasts a large number of citizens (over 1,200 residents), and had long ago acquired the resources from the easterly located Carmine Colony (abandoned). They function on a communal democracy, with work sectors voting for representatives that speak on behalf of the various tradesmen that occupy the colony. The representatives convene in a regular committee to distribute the colony's resources as they are needed. Argus lends aid to the Agri-stations in the form of resources and personnel, and in return is supplied with food. The colony shares its underground water reservoir with the Garder Colony to the west, and it is mutually defended by forces from both colonies.
The Argus colony maintains a rigid order, and their policing administration is more than capable to handle the number of residents. Egregious crimes are handled by expelling those who break the major laws into the Martian wasteland. Lesser infractions are punished in a variety of other means, to include assignment of the most undesirable of tasks such as waste cleanup, being given lesser rations for a prescribed period of time, and a relocation to outpost duty at the worst.
The mines of the Argus colony are stable, and the upper regions have even been converted into hab-zones to house the community's increased populace. The lower levels are commonly used for storage. In the event of a breach of the upper fortress, the residents can seal themselves in the tunnels and survive off of the stockpile of resources there. The vehicular resource of Argus is also decent, this especially with the parts and equipment taken from the Carmine colony. Argus lends the most roving sentries to the Agri-stations and even runs supplies to other colonies such as Garder and Akura-Heins.
Carmine Colony:
This abandoned colony is a husk of its former self. The complex was stripped many decades ago of anything that could be easily removed. The remnant structure is a skeletonized frame, with any kind of plating having been scavenged by the Argus colony, raiders, or other drifting groups and repurposed to varying degrees. The mines of the Carmine colony are sealed off, the miners of the complex having collapsed the entry tunnel before escaping the planet. Why this was done is unknown, but it has been left in that state and no colony has attempted to excavate the tunnel to see what might have been left behind in the mines depths.
Orientation: Hetero Age: 9 years/17 years (Martian Standard/Earth Standard) Height: 4' 11'' (150 cm) Weight: 48.6 Lbs. (22 kg)/128 Lbs. (58 kg) (Martian Standard/Earth Standard) Hair: Black Eyes: Green Affiliation: Slitter Gang Mutation Status: Positive
- Anal
Anal Creampie
Vaginal Neglect
Cum Inflation (semi-realistic)
Anilingus (recieving)
Messy/Scat (optional)
- Rough Sex
Fighting/Wrestling/Choking
Dry/Rough Penetration
Biting/Scratching
- Exhibitionism
Public Sex
Casual Sex Acts
- Age Difference
Older Males
Early 30's to late 40's (ideally)
- Size Difference
Taller Males
Muscular Males
- Vaginal Sex
MRKH and Vaginal Scarring
- Effeminate Males
Soft features
Petite frame
Passive/Submissive Persona
- Young Males
15 to 25 y/o
- Oral
Fellatio: She will fucking BITE you!
Ass to Mouth
Background:
Minerva has never known a life without strife and struggle. Everything she has owned, the teenage raider has taken from someone else. Her short span of existence on Mars has been rough, even by Martian standards. Rape and murder is common in the gangs of marauders, and females are often seen as more of a commodity than kin. Minerva however, managed to kill the last two males that attempted to own her. This feat of viciousness earned her a degree of tolerance among the Slitter Gang, and the males have acknowledged her to have a slightly higher standing than the other women.
Despite her elevated status from mere fuck-meat, Minerva holds no sympathies towards the other female slaves. As far as she was concerned, if they couldn’t fight for their freedom the way she had, they didn’t deserve it. And yet, Minerva finds herself in an isolated position in the gang: Having no comradery amongst the women, and seen as second class by the men. While it is normal for gangers to squabble and contest each other over their acquisitions from raids, Minerva is especially targeted by the rest of the raiders. In a bout over possession, she is an easy win due to her small size. As such, Minerva tends to lose a lot of her rightly stolen materials to the other marauders.
Despite her miniscule frame, Minerva has proven to be a competent raider. She has joined with marauding parties on their sorties to waylay trade caravans, and has returned successful many a time. The tenacious teen has even participated in a successful invasion of a far-cast outpost on the fringe of a colony’s territories. As per the raider gang's traditions, Minerva became a fully fledged marauder and had all eight of her incisors chipped and filed to sharp points. But what most makes Minerva a boon to her fellow raiders is the freak psionic abilities that were with her from birth. In truth, it is this attribute that has lent to Minerva’s continued survival on Mars.
Minerva’s brain is oddly developed. This is very likely due to the rampant mutations that plague the Martian denizens. Her mutation causes her neocortex to constantly emit disruptive wavelengths. These wavelengths can confuse, enrage, or even put others to sleep. When she was a child, the waveforms were relatively weak, and most of her clan did not even notice. The gangers merely wrote it off that “Everyone was always in a weird mood around the kid”. As she grew older, Minerva realized that she imposed these various effects on others. Minerva has no way of turning the waveforms off, and they are ever present in a short radius of a few meters. When the teen goes through periods of heightened emotion or stress, the waveforms get stronger and thus affect others more potently. The mask she wears is layered with a mesh material, taken from long-range communication dishes. It significantly dampens her ability, to the point of near-nullification under normal conditions. The Slitter Gang requires Minerva to wear the mask whenever she is around them. The exception to this being when it would prove a boon in raids against the colonies and their defenders.
Minerva’s Psionic abilities are not her only mutation. She also suffers from malformations of a less fantastic nature. Müllerian agenesis, also known as Mayer–Rokitansky–Küster–Hauser syndrome (MRKH) or vaginal agenesis, is a birth defect characterized by a failure of the Müllerian duct to develop, resulting in a missing uterus and variable degrees of vaginal hypoplasia. In layman’s terms: Minerva suffers from a shallow vagina, has no menstrual cycle, and is otherwise unable to bear children. Minerva has been informed by the other women in the clan that this is abnormal, but accepts it as an unchanging factor in her life. The raider is otherwise ignorant of the medical preface or insinuations of her condition. What she does understand, is that she suffers terrible pain during vaginal sex. This not only because of her hypoplasia, but also because of vaginal stenosis. This secondary condition was caused both by the radiation exposure from the Martian environment, as well as the constant rapes Minerva received during her upbringing. Her vaginal canal, while already shortened due to her defect, is also heavily scarred. This makes intercourse of the vaginal conduct very difficult and agonizing.
Due to these problems, Minerva has opted to indulge herself in an anal sex alternative. She has come to enjoy it in the same regard as any other woman would appreciate regular sex. Because of this, the teenage marauder has gleaned a reputation among the Slitter Gang as the clan’s butt slut. She has no shortage of males in the gang who, tired of their loose and unenthusiastic sex slaves, are more than content to release their pent-up aggressions into Minerva’s vivacious and eager rear end.
One last skill that Minerva employs for the Slitter Gang, is her affinity towards vehicular mechanics. Passed on from her forefathers, the teen has a family history of technical repair. She uses this passed down knowledge to keep the various rigs of the gang in operation. Because of this particular skill set, Minerva has been able to safely secure her own rig from ever being acquired by other raiders. It is wired with a variety of kill switches that make it inoperable to oblivious hands.
Psi-Damper Mask
Crafted by some of the more technologically savvy members of the Slitter Gang, Miranda's Psi-Damper Mask shields the debilitating waveforms that are constantly emitted from the mutant female's brain. The materials were scavenged from the tech-scrap of a communications station. A mesh used in a long-range com-dish seems to dampen the waveforms emitted from Miranda’s brain. The waves seem to generally project in a forward spread, so the mask only covers her face, and is not instead a helmet. However, in times of duress or particular emotional intensity, the waveforms lash out in omni-directional orientation and even leak through the protective layering.
The Choppa’
A simple plank of jagged iron, crudely sharpened on one side. The Choppa’ is Miranda’s go-to melee weapon. The business end is roughly 20 inches long, and a ½ in. thick. It is anything but elegant, but it works equally as a blade as it does a bludgeon and has seen its fair share of bloodletting.
Barracuda 10mm Machine Pistol, Centurion Arms
The compact design of this firearm allows for comfortable holstering. The built-in A.R.T.S. (Automatic Reticle Targeting System) sight makes locking onto a target a simple task, even while firing out of a moving vehicle! This carbine is chambered in 10mm and has a 12 capacity clip. It has a setting for single fire, and three round burst.
Atomic Rifle (jury-rigged)
This weapon is exactly what it sounds like. Rigged up from nuclear battery cells and other scraped-together tech from abandoned equipment, the Atomic Rifle spews an invisible wash of radiation in an outward cone. The Radiation waves dissipate over a distance and aren't very effective after about 50 feet. It destroys the body on a cellular level. Exposure to a small, quick blast will often only leave the target incapacitated with radiation sickness. But multiple or prolonged blasts will inevitably cause system shock, with the target falling unconscious or convulsing on the ground. Sustained exposure can result in rapid cellular decay, and organ and tissue failure causing imminent death.
Laser Rifle (jury-rigged)
Assembled from parts of industrial cutting lasers used in the mines, three different emitters have been rigged into this deadly contraption for different types of firing.
Single Shot: A short blast of concentrated energy is fired per trigger squeeze.
Sustained Fire: Holding down the trigger results in a continuous barrage of laser blasts. Prolonged use will overheat the weapon.
Beam: A laser swathe is emitted from the barrel of the weapon in a continuous beam that burns everything in its path. Can only be used in short duration or it will overheat the weapon. Requires considerable cooldown after each use.
6-Sixty, All-Terrain Utility Vehicle (modified)
Minerva’s pride and joy. 6-Sixty is a four speed, 4x4 Truck. It is outfitted with a high density chromoly roll cage, and has been fitted with steel armor plating. Minerva has made many technical modifications to the engine and suspension system, while also gutting non-essential weight. The switchboard for the various instruments are rigged with multiple kill switches to ensure that 6-Sixty remains under Minerva’s ownership. If the wrong sequence is set, the fuel cells will short and overheat until they explode. Minerva keeps the aforementioned weapons stored in 6-Sixty for safekeeping and often sleeps in the vehicle herself for good measure.
This character is very much a WIP, as I haven't done much to flesh out her background or personality. She is created exclusively for bestiality play. Preferably horses and bulls and other very large animals. But I am not opposed to large canines as well.
Created by the Mursen-Teirs Corporation, Kasey is currently assigned to the starship (your ship name here).
She can be on rental to the captain, as android upkeep is actually quite expensive and usually requires specialized facilities and technicians. Mursen-Teirs regularly maintains their models between assignments so that they are in optimal condition at the start of their duties.
-OR-
Kasey can be owned by the captain and be a regular and permanent part of their crew. If this option is desired, then Kasey may not necessarilly be in the most tip-top condition. Think of her as being a very expensive piece of equipment to maintain, and that cost is weighed against the upkeep and supply of the rest of the ship and crew.
The android serves a multitude of functions for the crew, and is even uploaded with a bank of medical procedures. She also is programmed with personal firearms affinity for security detail. Additionally, Kasey possesses a mechanical aptitude both in general and specific to the ship. Her data bank also allows for an abridged index to a wide array of catalogued flora and fauna from a multitude of planets. Core functions such as navigation, dock loading, and commercial vehicular piloting are all standardized capabilities. Kasey also has programming for Military class piloting, but it is not apparent on her registry. As per specific orders of the captain, Kasey has been programmed to be able to cook meals of fine dining upon request.
Her outward appearance is that of a female in her late teens (18/19?). However, Kasey is well over thirty years old. Her adaptive AI allows her to learn from every experience she has. Thus, the android has a wealth of knowledge and experience gathered from her various assignments throughout the years. This AI system is unique to the Ambrix series, in effect giving each individual android model the ability to grow their own personality matrix. In truth, many models of this generation have been recalled because of issues arising from their unique AI. The error has been dubbed the Rogue Variable, and is the instance in which the android's personality matrix clashes with their failsafe protocols. This causes erratic and unpredictable behavior, as well as a blatant disregard to orders given to them. Not every model succumbs to this glitch. But because of the risk of a full recall in future models, Mursen-Tiers ceased the Ambrix AI project on further models. Kasey's persona is a bit snarky and crass but overall agreeable in her social interface. She has yet to exhibit signs of the Rogue Variable.
Kasey is fully skinned over her android frame, and is mimicking of human form in extensive detail. She was modeled after Caucasian traits. Her synthetic dermis is light and soft, and shows freckling. Her skin is also laced with an internal mesh that can alter its temperature, and can withstand temperatures from as low as -170 C to as high as 1200 C without temperature control. Kasey's dermis is also embedded with environmental receptors that function in the same basic means as nerves. These "feel" sensations such as hot and cold, and pain and pleasure. Other sensors abound in her core, allowing her to take readings of her surroundings that would elude a human. Standard skinned androids exhibit hair and that can be grown through the expenditure of a protein block. Upgraded models sport colorful nano-tubes within the strands that allow for a variation of colors to be changed at will. If left to self-groom, Kasey usually leaves her hair in shades of pinks, purples, and even a transitioning spectrum. However, she will readily change her hair to the standards of her current assignment if necessary.
Kasey's core frame is comprised of a titanium alloy. The rest of her body is hi-grade polycarbonate and other synthetic polymers that emulate the texture and pliability of cartilage, fat, and muscle tissue. Her model's structural integrity is such that it can allow Kasey to be used for heavy industrial application if needed. However, her fine motor workings also give Kasey the ability to undertake tasks requiring surgical precision. As an android, Kasey has heightened levels of strength and endurance. It should be noted that Kasey's frame will disintegrate her skin if applied to extreme work conditions. In other words, her metal skeleton will tear through her skin when enough exertion is applied.
The android's activity is limited only by the wear of her parts and battery life. The latter of which is a third generation Nucleo-gel fusion generator. Under normal output, this powerplant can provide energy to Kasey's systems for a duration of over twelve years before needing to be recharged. This duration is lengthened considerably if Kasey "sleeps" between her active tasks. Her powerplant itself can effectively last forever if not damaged by outside elements, and otherwise never needs replacement.
Alternatively, Kasey can be played in YOUR setting if you can accommodate her origin background. Are you a ship captain in need a mechanic? Navigator? Pilot? Maybe you're a merc or bounty hunter that recently lost their support personnel and needs a reliable stand-in for an important job. Look no further, as the Mursen-Tiers corporation guarantees the compliance and productivity of their assigned androids. Operational discretion is a creedo of the company, and all activity logs will be purged upon completion of their task. Back-up data available to you before deletion, upon request. Androids operate at the discretion of their handlers, and Mersen-Tiers holds no responsibility for illegal activity rendered by the user.
This 67 year old space hulk has been to every corner of the explored universe, and even some unexplored regions. Its crew is meager, and their jobs are relatively simple. They deliver cargo from one port to another. However, simple doesn't necessarilly denote easy. The crew has had their fair share of run ins with space pirates, hostile aliens, intergalactic monstrosities, and celestial phenomena. Who would have thought that such a mundane job could be rife with so much misadventure?
The Vegvisir isn't fast or particularly maneuverable, and only has a pair of light cannons on the bow for defensive purposes. The ship is very durable however, as it was built to exist perpetually in the rigors of space. It also boasts high-output thrusters. These are required in order to get its typically weighty cargo loads moving. The Vegvisir can tow ships of considerably larger size, and is equipped with a super-max tow line for such situations. The facilities of the ship aren't exactly luxurious, either. Aside from crew quarters and operational hubs, there is a small med bay, a latrine, and a simple kitchen/mess hall. Most of the length of the ship is dedicated to cargo holds and storage. It IS a freighter, afterall.
As her surroundings faded into clarity, Kasey was met with a confusion and a bit of dread. While the corridor in which she stood most definitely held the familiar semblance to the space freighter Abaddon, there was something terribly amiss. Everything was dim, and the overhead lights seemed diffused from their regular, hard illumination. Several of the maintenance panels were missing as well, exposing wires and diodes and vent ducts. What was even more unnerving was the pinkish growth that squeezed out from between the floor panels. It was on the walls and ceiling, too. Kasey approached the goo, dipping her smooth featured face closer to inspect it. The growth pulsed with life! What was going on here? With no other logical alternative, and still not being able to recall exactly how she got here, Kasey walked tentatively down the hallway. As the android went, the light seemed to further wane, and the growth became more prolific.
“Hello?”, she called, but the air snuffed out her call to a dense muffle.
Everything was so surreal, and Kasey’s positronic driver could not make sense of what was going on. Her steps echoed loudly, too loudly. While her voice could barely be heard, the slapping of her boots on the grilled floor were as thunderclaps. Doing her best to ignore the distorted noises, Kasey turned right to get to the bridge. However, instead of the familiar bulkhead a wall of writhing tendrils rose from the floor to the ceiling. Kasey stopped dead in her steps. As though sensing her presence, the tendrils lifted up to reach out to her body.
“Whoa!”, Kasey exclaimed as she pulled back her wrist from a snaking probe.
“What’s going on, here? Where’s the captain?”
Suddenly, a faint gurgling noise churned up from the darkened corners of the hall. It rose in volume, and seemed to be coming from all around the frightened android. Abandoning all logic, Kasey started to double back the way she came.
“Fuck this! I’m out of here!”, she exclaimed as the pounding of her footwear exploded her down the dark hall.
But again, Kasey came screeching to a halt. From the direction in which she had originated, a lumbering form now occupied the entire width of the corridor. A single, glowing green eye was set in the center of a tangle of shifting, ropey tentacles. They flailed over the walls, searching for something to grip in their bone-less, muscled clutches.
“Oh, what the hell?!”, Kasey yelped as one of the tentacles shot out and grabbed her by the ankle.
She kicked desperately at it with her free foot, but even her enhanced strength did nothing to dislodge the alien’s hold on her. A second tentacle caught her other ankle, and Kasey tried to pry the grip loose with her hands. It was no use. More and more arms lunged out at her, eventually coming to hold all her appendages rigidly in place. Kasey attempted to flex herself against them, but she was pinned in place, held in the air with her arms and legs pulled straight and outward from her frame. Her rainbow tinted hair fell disheveled over her face, and the yellow glow of her irises shone through them with a shivering of terror.
“HELP! HELP ME!”, Kasey screamed. But her voice came out muted.
“CAPTAIN?! CAPTAIN?! WHERE ARE YOU?!... SECURITY?!… WHERE IS EVEREYONE?!”
An especially thick tendril now uncoiled itself from the mass of squirming, alien arms. Its entire length dripped in a thick, viscous secretion as it emerged from the lower end of the wriggling mass. The eerie green eye watched on, unblinking. The tip of the slime-coated tentacle ended in a bulbous mass, tapering at its point. It made its way slowly to Kasey’s captured form. Looking back over her shoulder, the android caught a glimpse of the impending tentacle.
“What the fuck is that!”, Se screamed rhetorically. “Get away from me!”
Kasey kicked and bucked her synthetic body against the strength of the alien in desperation. However, it was clear that she was at the mercy of whatever intention the monstrous creature had for her. The slimy tentacle had reached Kasey’s leg, and now wound its way up her thigh. It was cold to the touch. Cold and sticky with whatever the thick fluid that seeped out from it was. The bulb of the tentacle found its way under the grey skirt of Kasey’s uniform. Although she was an android, Kasey had been reclassed from the Ambrix Series to her current role on the Abaddon. The Ambrix were made in every way to outwardly resemble a human, as they were created by the Terran Military to infiltrate the rebel armies in the Miner’s War. At his current point and time, Kasey was deeply regretting her true-to-form anatomy.
As the dripping bulb fumbled around the meeting of her legs, it nudged itself beneath the hem of Kasey’s white panties. It squeezed its mass through one leg hole, and subsequently found its way out the other. Kasey herself, had frozen in fear. She did not move, in hopes that the curious appendage would move on to another part of her body. However, Kasey was not so fortunate. The tentacle pulled away from Kasey’s crotch, Slipping her panties down over her shapely ass and hips. It recoiled itself to pull the undergarment all the way down to her knees until it untangled itself from the plain briefs. Free from the cotton confines, the mucus-laden tendril resumed its probe of the android’s body. It found itself back at Kasey’s virginal cleft. A short frock of reddish fuzz denoted the true color of the android’s hair. The bulb slid itself across her pubis, fondling her delicate skin until it found a convenient fold to nudge itself into.
“H-Hey! STOP! I’m not a human! You can’t-!”
Cassie had hoped to dissuade the creature from whatever attempt to penetrate her, but it fell on unintelligible ears. Instead, the creature had begun to bury the greater part of the bulb into Kasey’s vagina. She truly was built to resemble a human, and even bled with the breaking of her hymen.
“Aaagh!” Kasey screamed. Her pain receptors lit her artificial system with several alerts to situational aversion.
The bulb began to push against her supple body in rhythmic pulses, driving deeper into the android with each thrust. Kasey squirmed again, more desperate than ever to escape this alien’s hold. Her servos strained under the counter-force she exerted, but it still was not enough. With an especially hard deliverance of a prod, the bulb cleared itself of Kasey’s outer labia and stretched the insides of her abdomen to accommodate its hefty mass. More of the sticky muck began to pour from the skin of the tentacle. Was it excited?
Kasey had remitted herself to sobs and defeated wailing. The bulb plunged itself deeply through her ravaged opening until it could fit no further. The android’s body was in shock, suffering severe internal injury and attempting all overrides to escape. Kasey’s body convulsed in a last-ditch effort to free itself. With a strength that surely damaged the mechanics of her body, Kasey miraculously wrenched her legs free of the alien’s hold. As her lower half swung forward, the bulb was violently pulled from her insides. A jut of blood and slime gushed from her nethers as Kasey kicked the invasive member away. However, as Kasey could not free her hands and make a run for her life, her fate was still inevitable. The intertwining arms came at the pale android once again, intent on finishing what they had started.
“NO! NOooo!”, was all that Kasey could manage before she was once again in their grip.
She crossed her legs over one another and locked her ankles in an attempted to keep the bulb out of her. The tentacles lazily groped at her thighs, but lacked the fine motor skills to separate the android’s legs. Unabashed from its mission, the thick and dripping bulb-arm returned to scout her body for an ulterior opening. It caressed itself up the perfect skin of Kasey’s flank, lifting once again the short length of her uniform skirt. Her panties had fallen from her legs in their initial escape, and lay on the floor smeared in alien muck. The blub circled the ample curvature of Kasey’s rump, eventually finding her sumptuous crevice. Squeeze as she may, the alien member could not be dissuaded from targeting Kasey’s pink pucker. The nose of the bulb worked its way in. Once it had given itself headway, the creature mercilessly plunged the entirety of the bulbous weight up into Kasey’s android guts.
“Nyaaa-aAA!”, she screamed, with every molecule of her being wishing she were somewhere else.
However, Kasey’s body had exhausted all of its parameters of escape. Her arms and legs whined with fatigue, and if she somehow managed to live through this encounter, Kasey would need extensive repair. She could do little as the slime-covered arm snaked deeper and deeper inside of her. The bulb could be seen even from the outside of her body, its mass expanding her skin and working its way through her insides. She looked almost pregnant. And from behind, the thickness of the arm only grew and grew, stretching her sphincter out until the skin cracked and bled. Kasey could only guess at how much of the alien appendage had snaked its way inside of her, but if she had been a true human, it would have easily killed her long ago. She wished she had been. Then at least the android would have been put out of her misery. Her pain receptors had maxed themselves out, and already some of her neural links ad burned out from the saturation.
At long last, the alien was satisfied with its penetration and it stopped feeding its gooey arm into the android. Then it started to throb. Softly at first, and slow between pulsation. However, it quickly built up strength and frequency until the tentacle practically convulsed inside of Kasey. At its end, the bulb had opened up, splaying itself inside out much like a blooming flower. However, in place of pedals, a veiny mass of sponge-like tendrils erupted outwards to fill any cavity they engorged into. They began to spew a milky cream into Kasey’s body, pumping with each powerful flex of the tentacle. Her asshole was stretched tightly over the snaking arm, and no fluid could sneak passed the water-tight seal. Instead, the goo flowed into every space and pocket inside her artificial guts. It filled every gap, and drowned out all but Kasey’s basic functions. Her abdomen inflated even more so, filling like a small balloon with the alien’s secretion. Her internal systems had become entirely backed up with the slimy sludge, and it began to seep from her mouth and other orifices in a steady drip.
And yet, it was not over. After the throbbing had calmed, and the last spurt of wheyish ejaculate had been pumped into Kasey’s body, a globular mass began to descend the length of the deeply inserted tentacle. It was an egg. And while the flesh of the tentacle easily expanded to make room for the egg as it passed through its center, Kasey’s asshole had already been pulled to its limit. As the mass approached the opening to the android’s anus, it was blaringly obvious that it would not pass easily. The tentacle began to open her more fully, but was stopped by the android’s very framework. The egg crowned into her hideously gaped anus, but could not fully insert itself without further accommodation. Kasey’s face was dull with shock, but what would follow would snap even that recoiled state of mind back into the foray of agony.
With a great and sudden heave, the muscles of the great tentacle constricted behind the egg. This propelled it forward into the awaiting maw that was Kasey’s rectum. With a tear and pop, it broke its way through her pelvic barrier and shot forcefully into her body cavity! All the while, the giant, green eye glowered at the affair.
Kasey screamed, and the cables of her Hyber-station shook as she clawed out into open air. Across from her, a monitor red-lined her neural activity. It beeped shrilly and demanded attention. It took a few moments for the android to realize that she had been having a nightmare. She had been having them recently, ever since they had come out of jump-space and had begun their approach to the planet Arloss II. Such was the side-effect of human consciousness in an android body. Strange, as she did not recall ever having such nightmares before. But the techs on board had assured her it was nothing to worry about as long as it only manifested during her sleep cycles. Kasey diligently freed herself from her sleep cables, careful to set them back neatly. She then gingerly stepped across to the monitor and keyed in an ‘all clear’ code. Regardless, Kasey knew the disturbance would be logged. She should expect yet another visit from a tech, later on. Shuffling over to her locker, Kasey’s naked body shown flawless in the blue glow of her meager chamber. As she retrieved her grey uniform and turned to cloth herself, something caught her eye in a far corner of the room. She eyed it as she finished dressing. As she pulled on her jacket, she made her way across the room to inspect a small glimmer in the shadow of some equipment. Pushing the heavy machinery aside, Kasey revealed a small orb buried in the dusty corner. She reached her slender, white finger out to pick it up. Standing up, she dusted it off. It was the size of a marble, but she could not mistake its visage. Holding it up to the light, Kasey withheld a small orb that was a perfect miniature of the eerie, green eye that haunted her nightmares.
You are admiring the view off of a rocky plateau, overlooking a sprawling and fortified cityscape. The sound of rocks tumbling down the cliffside behind you take your attention away from the scenery. When you turn around you behold the visage of a savage and thick-bodied barbarian woman. Her figure is plump but well-muscled, smeared with tribal paints that compliment her crimson hair. Your size is dwarfed to hers, and you quickly ascertain that she is kin to giants.
You look each other over for a brief moment, and then she speaks...
I know, it's kind of a long profile. Here are some of the key points in a nutshell:
Moira's an ogre princess, but she's a half-blood.
Also a cyclops, who are considered to be "lucky" by the tribe.
She has a human mom currently kept as a slave in the tribal pens. They're on good terms.
Because she's half-human, Moira isn't quite as dumb as the rest of her kin. But not by a lot.
She mostly just wanders around doing ogre stuff, but has a side hustle as a caravan guard.
Has friends in low places. i.e. cave dwellers such as goblins and trolls. She's also popular with the orcs.
Has an axe that is actually a Giant Mimic. It bites.
Ogre abilities include:
Magic resistance: Magic doesn't really affect her too much, for good or ill.
Frost Boon: Ogres don't really ever get cold. As such, they dress very lightly.
Really strong, and really durable
Can eat all kinds of things. Immune to poisoned/toxic foods
Name: Moira Bludskull Age: Young Adult Species: ½ Ogre/Human Size:
Background:
Belonging loosely to the tribes held under the banner of Kor Barra, Moira is the daughter of Ruskaa Bludskull, an Ogre chieftain. As such, she belongs to the Bludskull tribe of Ogres. Because of her heritage, Moira is technically an Ogre princess. However, she is not a full-blooded ogre. Moira's human mother had the privilege of being a captive slave to the Bludskull tribe. Moira was the end result of one of the many, many times the human female was was ravaged by the tribal bulls. The tusked infant was then passed along to the brood mothers of the tribe, and raised as any other ogre child would have been. Moira still drops by the slave pens from time to time to give her mother a friendly hello. Other, full-blooded ogres have been sired by Moira's father, both older and younger. So Moira is in no danger of inheriting her patron's seat of power in the tribe.
It should be mentioned that the Bludskull tribe has a proclivity to producing cyclopean ogres. Ruskaa himself is a cyclops. These sub-species of ogre kind are somewhat uncommon, and are considered to be lucky by the rest of their two-eyed kin. The fact that Moira was born as a cyclops surely weighed against her being half human, and helped to glean her acceptance into her tribe.
As a result of her “watered blood”, Moira is neither as large nor as strong as her ogre kin. Despite this, she has still found a place for herself among the tusked peoples of Kor Barra. She exhibits a slightly better capacity for learning and innovation than her kin, however. This can be attributed to her human half. This ability has helped her to retain standing amongst her kin, despite her physical inferiority. Most days, Moira can be found loitering about the wilds, or in the throng of tusked tribals gathered within the walls of Kor Barra. The ogress is turned away by the warrior caste that rules Kor Barra on account of her heritage, and therefore has no place in the raiders and war parties sent north against the Imperial invaders. Instead, she is left free to pursue her own motivations. Orcs and trolls are generally accepting of her company, with Moira being more agreeable in demeanor than the average ogre. She also finds it easy to lord herself over groups of goblins, acting as a strong arm towards mutual goals for the lot of them. Moira has also found that she can make easy coin as an escort to caravans that travel the roads south of Boyer Valley. However, she has also found that it is equally as lucrative to play the other side of that game. And Moira will just as readily waylay travelers on the road and part them from their valuables. For either of these reasons, venturing north of that Boyer Valley is ill-advised for her kind. While Moira is indeed half human, the ogre in her has marked the woman as an enemy to the Imperials.
MAGICAL
Magic Resistance- Ogres have an innate immunity to most kinds of magic. Moira’s father was a full-blooded ogre, and this ability has been inherited by her to a lesser degree. Moira is not immune, but has a great resistance to many forms of magic. Lesser magic does not affect her at all, while stronger spells and enchantments only affect her to a lesser degree. This ability is a double-edged sword however, as her resistance applies to both harmful and helpful magic alike.
Frost Boon- The ancestral home of the ogres were the Halhetch Mountains. And while they descended those snow-capped crags centuries ago, their entire species still retains the ability of extreme cold resistance. An ogre could stroll naked through a blizzard without any discomfort or harm coming to them from the weather. It is because of this Frost Boon that Ogres are commonly seen in little more than loincloths and light shirts (if even that).
MUNDANE
Lesser Ogre Physique- The muscle and bone density of ogres is greater than humans. In fact, the larger bones of slain ogres have been known to be crafted by master smiths into weapons more durable than iron. Adult ogres can tower at over 16 feet and can easily weigh over 3,000 pounds. They are able to shrug off blows that would shatter the bodies of weaker species. Piercing weapons have great difficulty in getting through their thick skin, and heavily laid slashes leave little more than flesh wounds upon them. While Moira does not share the full privilege of these attributes, her half blood does give her a healthy degree of this physical prowess.
Lesser Ogre Strength- As with the physique of an ogre, Moira also has a degraded version of ogre strength about her. While her full blooded kin can uproot thick, elder trees from the ground with applied effort, Moira’s strength easily outmatches even the most brawny and robust humans, and the ogress could easily crush a man's skull in one hand if she was so inclined. She is a giant, afterall.
Ogre Guts- Though ogres are omnivorous, their diet normally consists mostly of fresh, raw meat. They are infamous for carving off chunks of their living captives, and eating their flesh while they watch on in horror. Another well known fact is that ogres can consume even poisonous creatures without being affected by their toxins. “Tough as an Ogre’s Gut” is a well-used idiom to express the durability of something or someone. Moira enjoys the full capacity of this ability.
WEAPONS
Giant Mimic Axe- Mimics are curious creatures, imitating mundane items in hopes that a hapless passerby will come upon them so that they may spring forth and attempt to capture and consume them. This mimic has taken a peculiar twist on its modus operandi, and acts as a functional axe for Moira. It assumes all the qualities as such until it decides it is hungry or has had enough of being struck against armor or shields. It periodically lashes out in all its jagged-toothed splendor to take large bites out of Moira’s enemies. So sharp and hard are the mimic’s teeth, that they will pierce and rend armor plating with minimal effort. Moira makes sure to keep the mimic axe well fed, lest the creature’s growing appetite work up an inclination to take a bite out of her instead.
ARMOR
Orc Marauder Boots- Mundane, but well made boots that were traded to Moira from the orcs at Kor Barra. They originally belonged to a particularly large warboss. Large orc boots make for small ogre footwear. Fortunately, Moira has petite feet (for an ogre). They are made of thick and durable gryphon hide, lined with white fur on the inside for warmth and comfort. The boots sport a heavy sole and iron-capped toes that feature two, tusk-like spikes on either boot.
CLOTHING
Scanty Tribal Leathers (Wooly Boar)-These garments are crafted from a pelt of the Wooly Boars that live at the foot of the Halhetch Mountains in the Great Mushroom Forest. Moira had to trek across the Imperial domains just to have the opportunity to hunt these elusive and ornery creatures.
Wooly Boar Top- Moira covers her massive mammaries with this durable, fur-lined top. It required two entire pelts to make, and still barely covers her bountiful breasts.
Loincloth- Crafted from the soft belly skin of the boar, this loincloth is as comfortable as it is revealing.
Arm Cuff- A strip of fur-trimmed boar leather, affixed with decorative teeth and claws. Purely aesthetic.
Wrist Wraps & Gloves- Simple cloth wraps encircle Moira’s forearms up to her palms and tied up at the wrist. Thick, fingerless gloves of centaur leather are worn over her hands.
OTHER ITEMS
Tribal Stone Amulet- A simple stone amulet carved out of a grey-blue rock. Its crude form displays the mark of Moira’s tribe, Bludskull.
Kroka-tooth Charm- Dark green beads compliment yellowed teeth taken from (at least one) Krokatan. Moira considers it a lucky charm and never takes it off. She wears it taut around her thigh.
Essentially, this is a very absurdist take on the classic medieval fantasy genre. I mean, if you couldn't already tell by the exaggerated proportions and cartoony mood of Moira, this is going to be a very tongue-in-cheek RP setting.
I'm looking for a partner that is into the giant female x normal sized male pairing. But in this case, your normal size could be a halfling, goblin, dwarf, elf, etcetera. I'm trying to keep it pretty "classic" in that sense. No crazy Bear/Kobold Sorcerers that have augmented insect stingers for extra arms, please. A definite interest in the BBW form is pretty much necessary, as per Moira's figure.
And a big focus on butt stuff. If you read my About section, or click the link in my sig, you'll know that I'm very much about anal sex and butt-play in general. It's like, my thing. That's not to say it's the ONLY thing I like. Given Moira's proportions, a lot of tit-smothering and fat play and general BBW body worship stuff can totally unfold here.
Don't take the setting too seriously. Like I said, I'm looking to encapsulate a very absurdist and Bawdy take on the classic medieval fantasy world.
And all I can really say is, "I just wanna wander the countryside doing brigand stuff, and shove adventurers up my butt!"
I had originally conceptualized this RP idea with Moira running around with a group of goblin marauders. She was essentially their strong arm in knocking over merchant caravans on popular roadways. However, one of the goblins in their troupe has become infatuated with the ogress and her titanic ass. He attempts to woo and court her. But Moira is a romantically receptive as a swamp log. Eventually, the goblin male gets through to her and they engage in some very interesting sexcapades together.
Moira is very assertive and domineering. That doesn't necessarilly mean that I want her paired with a more submissive type. But YC can totally be reserved, quiet, shy, etc. If they are or are not is irrelevant to a big, dumb ogre. Moira is going to press her will on YC regardless. Not for ego, or a power-trip or some kind of assertion of dominance. But just because that's how ogres roll. When they see something they want, they go for it. If you're smaller than an ogre, you dont get a whole lot of say in the matter.
That being said, I'd rather this be more of a mutual interest type of connection between our characters, instead of Moira essentially raping yours all the time. Though we could also entertain the notion of YC initially NOT liking their interactions, but eventually coming to love them. They ould also be like, an ass fiend! Loving big ladies and their subsequent big butts. So a giant, voluptuous ogre is right up their alley!
NSFW
YES
This (NSFW)! I'm not really sure what to call it. I'm not gonna go as far as saying it's anal vore. Because I don't want to kill the lil' guy or anything like that. In fact, I'd rather it be mutually enjoyable (NSFW) for both YC and MC. Of course, Moira wont be nearly as giant as the gals in those pics. So the fit will be a lot tighter and require more effort to achieve. I just really wanna stick little men up my butt!
Honestly, I'm mostly looking to pair up with partners that have a thing for monstrous giant females. I'm not even that picky about the type of male. Normally, I have a specific type. But in this case, I'll suspend that notion, and be more open to goofy, nerdy, mousy, lanky, fat, etc. I'm still not into Queer or androgynous types of males, though.
NO
Addictive Cum/Musk- I really don’t like the “mind control” aspect of this element. I’d rather my character be craving your character for narrative reasons, instead of a cheap gimmick.
Breeding- I know this is super popular with the guys. But I’m really not into my characters getting knocked up. The exception being Oviposition.
Canon Characters- I deal strictly in Original Characters.
Effeminate Males- Whether they be Queer, Trans, Shota…. Or whatever you wanna call them. I like my character to be paired with masculine males.
Artwork of Moira is my own creation. I do not consent to its use by other persons or parties. View attachment 15533
Alternate use:
Lording over goblins might sound like a simple endeavor for a towering cyclops. But in all truth, Moira's patience was tested daily by the chaotic and squabbling greenskins. The red-headed ogress offered a degree of protection to the clamoring gaggle, keeping away wandering monster hunters and questing adventurers with her brutish presence. At her best guess there were roughly fifty of the wiry, flop-eared cretins. And thy had enjoyed a life of relative safety ever since the one-eyed giantess had lived with their number. In return, the dim-witted creatures fawned and practically worshipped her. Thier venerating tendencies would oftentimes get a little overbearing, and Moira would feel smothered in the goblins' constant adulation.
The goblins would gift the cyclopean female with the best of their loot, and the least rotten of their food. The males especially would vie for her attention, their yellow eyes in constant gaze over her massively voluptuous form. Ogres were naturally padded and paunchy, but Moira had an explicitly generous curvature about her that many of the little imps found irresistible. Never mind that she was four times their average height and over twenty times their weight. To the goblins, she was all the more woman for them to dote over. Some had even gotten into the habit of referring to her as "Queen Moira".
Their home cave was a reclusive sanctuary for the lot of them. Though when Moira occupied the domain, she had to crawl on hands and knees to get into the deeper recess of the chasm. The goblins eagerly guarded the cyclopean female when she slept. The group was comprised of mostly males. They bickered and fought over who would have the privilege of nestling themselves up against Moira's gigantic glutes and colossal cleavage.
Hello and welcome to my RP request, Star Wars: Scum & Villainy. This will be an EU roleplay set in the era of the Great Galactic War (not to be confused with the later Galactic War) . This is the war right before the Cold War, commonly exemplified by the SWtOR MMO video game. This timeline is waaaaay before anything that has occurred in any of the movies or series, in the year 3679 BBY. That's just a couple of years after the Battle of Korriban. This roleplay is intended to take place in the Outer Rim section of the galaxy, as well as Hutt space. I am looking to (ideally) recruit a small group of 4 other individuals to create a motley gang of galactic miscreants. One character is allowed per player for now, but you may have a droid or creature companion to go with your character if you wish. I just ask that your companion be of a relatively mundane nature (i.e. no assassin droid bodyguards or pet rancors).
As the title of the roleplay suggests, this setting will be more focused on the criminal underbelly element of the Star Wars universe. Smugglers, spies, raiders, slavers. bounty hunters, black marketers, and underworld agents are more of the focus here than the dichotomy of the Force and its wielders. My intent is to establish this group to pursue an alternative-themed roleplay to the typical Star Wars narrative.
Since this timeline is occurring thousands of years before the Battle of Yavin, please consider an alternative dating system of ABM.
This acronym stands for After the Battle of Malachor V. As things in the Star Wars universe are dated around events of galaxy-wide importance, it stands to reason the Battle of Malachor V would be substantial enough to warrant such a notice. This Battle of Malachor V occurred in 3960 BBY. In order to convert the timeline over from BBY to ABM, simply take 3960 (Year 0 for ABM) and subtract whatever year it is in BBY. The remaining sum is the current year in ABM. This year counts forwards as time progresses, unlike BBY which counts down as the years go forward in time.
This roleplay is then set in the year 281 ABM.
The Great Galactic War has been fully inflamed for three standard years. This era was heralded by the reclaiming of the planet Korriban by the Sith, as
they reestablish control over their ancestral home world. The Republic scrambles
to once again combat the Sith Empire, and the rest of galaxy is once again upset by the
struggle for power.
As military forces from both sides are pulled into the battlefronts, far cast systems
have been left unguarded. The Outer Rim territories in particular are rife with criminal
activity. Pirates, smugglers, slavers, and all manner of deplorables have flourished in the
vacuum of law and order. Most of these outlying planets simply do not have the resources
to combat this wave of crime, as syndicates and cartels have brought their territorial wars to a
violent crescendo. Meanwhile, mercenaries and bounty hunters alike find themselves with no lack of assignments. Droves of these individuals take on the open contracts to seize and counteract the criminal element that has arisen during this chaotic era.
Our story begins on the moon of Nar Shadda. It is a fitting stage for a tale of pirates and black market runners. For if ever there was a proving ground for the galaxy's most malfeasant of transgressors, it would be here on the smuggler's moon.
Amid the towering cityscapes, dug into the rotting layers of vice and debauchery like a metallic splinter, a starship touches down at a particularly lowbrow district amid the endless cityscape. The Drexl's Grudge refuels and resupplies while its captain allows her crew some shore leave...
The players in this RP take the role of the crew aboard the Drexl's Grudge. The following examples are a few ways that you can incorporate your character into the crew. This is not a comprehensive list, by any means. Feel free to come up with your own ideas and background to fit your character in. Also, these are not all exclusive roles. You can double up on roles, and some roles can even be held by multiple characters.
Captain/Pilot (of the Drexl's Grudge): This is pretty much self explanatory. This role will be filled by yours truly. Not because I love being in charge (I actually don't), but because it is the easiest and most direct way to move this roleplay forward in plot. The captain's CS will be up as soon as a I get a thread going for character profiles.
Designated Gunner: While others might also be qualified to man the guns of the Drexl's Grudge, this is primarily your duty. A character filling this vocation should have a long standing and trusted relation to the captain. Feel free to tie yourself in to her background.
Bodyguard: Hired goon or loyal confidant, either one fits here. You are always right around the corner ready to protect (the captain or a specific crew member) with your life. Whether it's credits or honor or...something else, your duty is unwavering. -OR- maybe you're not even that great of a bodyguard, constantly being absent from your post and never there when you're needed. lol
Droid Crewman: Not every member of the crew is flesh and bone. Sometimes, you need the cold, calculating methods of a droid to get a job done! This role can also take up other roles in conjunction. You aren't limited to be the "token droid" character. Please use the Droid Template if you decide to make a character of this denomination.
Mechanic/Tech: Things break. They need to be fixed. No crew is going to go anywhere if the ship doesn't work. Also a handy crewmember for custom jobs on gear and weapons. #essentialworkers
Munitions Expert: Don't bring a vibroblade to a blaster fight. And don't bring a blaster to a room that's been wired with remote-detonated high-explosives. Can you say, Ka-Boom!?
Appraiser/Connoisseur: Is it a fake? Are we being set up? How much is it worth? These are the questions that need to be answered by any respectable thief and smuggler when doing business. It's best to have someone on hand to give those answers before you fill your cargo hold with worthless junk.
Underworld Contact: You're the guy/gal that has the friends in low places. Sure, the crew has secured some illicit goods. But that doesn't mean a thing unless you have a buyer. You rub elbows with the worst of the worst, and their deep pockets mean that the crew (usually) gets a better payout for their collective troubles.
Hired Gun (Merc): Much like the bodyguard, only you aren't here to protect. You're here to fuck shit up. Go get em' tiger! Earn those creds!
Crooked Bounty Man: You're supposed to be one of the good guys. But you're on the take. You're unique position gives an edge into knowing who else might be coming after the crew. Also, you can masquerade as a legitimate Bounty Hunter whenever it suits your needs.
Crew Slave: Maybe you were purchased from a slave auction. Maybe you were taken personally by the crew, themselves. Maybe you are being coerced or blackmailed into servitude. Either way, you are here against your will, but serve the crew nonetheless. Complete with voice-controlled shock collar!
RULES
1. Don't be an asshole OOC. No Drama outside of IC roleplay, and don't argue with the GM over events in the RP.
2. No Metagaming. Just because you as a player know about certain information, doesn't mean your PC necessarilly knows about it.
3. This is an EU (Star Wars Legends) roleplay. Therefore, EU lore will be used when at all possible. Canon lore can be used if there is no EU lore to derive from, and if the canon lore does not clash with the EU lore. In the case where there is information from both sources, the EU will supersede Canon if they contradict one another.
4a. Player Characters must be created accordingly to the timetable. In other words: You cannot be a Clone Trooper or a Galactic Empire era TIE Fighter pilot or a Mandalorian Super Commando, because they simply did not exist yet.
4b. Keep all technology appropriate to the timeline. DO NOT include gear from other eras in your character's background or RP narrative. Things such as weaponry and armor, or ships and other vehicles should not be from timeframes such as the Clone Wars, Cold War, or Galactic Civil War, etc.
Popular weapons such as DC-15's, E-11's, WESTAR's, etc. are not allowed as a character's gear.
5. Please keep any force-inclined characters at a reasonable level of power. No one wants to RP with overpowered characters. We are not playing as the A Team, here. Hell, we might not even qualify as the B Team. This is very much an underdog narrative. On a scale of 1 to 10, with non-sensitives being a 1 and Anakin Skywalker being a 10, I don't want any characters to be more than a 3. This means minor intuition, and only the most meager abilities of force manipulation.
6. Original characters only. Canon and EU characters may be mentioned as part of your background if they are viable in the timeline, and even speculated as passing background NPCs during the course of the RP. But your characters themselves must be original creations.
7.This is a Literate Roleplay. I do not want to see one-liners here. I do not even want to see three liners. With the exception of posts exchanging in conversational dialogue with other PCs, there is a minimum requirement of 6 sentences per post. This is the bare minimum, however. I do expect you to put in more effort than that as a regular contribution. Multi-paragraph posts are the ideal. The post rate will be expected to be two or three times a week, once a day. This should give you ample time to make detailed and meaningful posts without being rushed.
REGULATIONS
Bounty Hunters must act in accordance to their trade. Bounty Hunters are NOT Mercenaries. These are two separate vocations (though it does not mean your character cannot do both). Bounty Hunters are bound to follow laws, lest they lose their license and credibility. And while many bend and sometimes break the rules to get the job done, they simply are not a "gun for hire". Bounty Hunter Characters should be familiar with the six tenets of the Bounty Hunter Code. Their players should understand the levels of Bounty Postings, as well as be familiar with the Bounty Hunter's Guild. Keep in mind that the information on the Wookieepedia about the specific Guild Houses comes AFTER the timeline of this RP.
Mandalorians: We are NOT honoring the culture put in place by the recent Disney show, and are relegating to the EU lore on this culture of warriors. There is not anything in Mandalorian culture that denoted you could not show your face. There are many instances of Mandalorians showing their faces without consequence, including but not limited to Jaster Mereel, Tor Vizla, Shae Vizla, Canderous Ordo, Novoc Vevut, Ghes Orade, Mirta Gev, Khomo Fett, and Bo-Katan Kryze.This is the way PCs of the Mandalorian variety should be familiar with the Resol'nare and other aspects of Mandalorian culture. Also, take heed of their current state as a people in this timeline. There is no Mand'alore before 3667 BBY, when Mandalore the Lesser is put into place by the Sith so that they may hold sway over the Mandalorian people. Also as per the EU lore, the Mandalorians were originated as the Taung race. It was not until 3995 BBY that Mandalore the Ultimate allowed the indoctrination of other species into the Mandalorian culture.
No Grey Jedi. Period. I don't want to hear the arguments. They are not allowed in this roleplay setting, and I don't want them mentioned in any character backgrounds. I'm not too keen on having Sith/Jedi characters involved in the RP to begin with, much less Grey Jedi. Sorry, not sorry.
Rare materials, ships, weaponry, etc. will be just that: RARE. If the lore you are drawing the item in question from emphasizes that it is not commonly found or easily acquired, think about how feasible it is for your character to have it. Just an FYI: It's better to not be an edgelord with all the hot-shit items, and settle for something more common and believable.
As weapons and armament are difficult to find listed in detail in either canon or EU lore, generalized descriptions of weapons in your "Equipment" field on your CS are acceptable, i.e. Blaster Rifle Carbine, Scattergun, Blaster Pistol, etc. However, if your gear is of some kind of customized, non-standard design, you must expand on the nuances of your equipment using the appropriate template. Please be detailed and specific, as well as try to keep pictures of equipment to the flavor of the Star Wars aesthetic.
(Delete the italicized parts of the templates when filling them out. Do not omit fields.)
▼Character Template▼ (picture of character here, align to left)
•Name:
•Species:
•Affiliation:
•Height:
•Weight:
•Eye Color:
•Hair Color:
•Skin Color:
•DOB:
•Planet of Origin/Birth:
•Languages Spoken: (indicate fluency)
•Occupation:
•Skills: (firearms affinity, hacking, piloting, armor crafting, xenobotany, etc.)
•Personality Traits: (describe in a few words)
•Background:
•Equipment: (Weapons/Armor/Misc.)
▼Droid Character Template▼ (picture of character here, align to left)
•Name:
•Manufacturer:
•Product line:
•Class: (Droid Classes)
•DOM: (date of manufacture)
•Translator Unit:
•Default Language:
•Affiliation:
•Height:
•Weight:
•Sensor Color: ("eye color")
•Plating Color/Type:
•Program Traits: (gender programming, quirks, habits, etc.)
•Functions: (same as "Skills")
•Background: ( >500 words, please)
•Equipment: (Weapons/Armor/Misc.)
▼Custom Weapon Template▼ (picture of weapon here, align to left)
Weapon Name:
Manufacture:
Model:
Type:
▼Custom Armor Template▼ (Picture of armor here, align to left)
Armor Name:
Manufacture:
Model:
Type:
▼Creature Template▼ (picture of creature here, align to left)
Species Name:
Planet of Origin:
Size:
Lifespan:
Diet:
Environment:
Locomotion:
Physical Description:
[tab=Introduction]
In the distant East, across the Torric Ocean and over the Arion Mountains, the Kingdom of Ahrammaria rises out of the perpetual desert sands. The barren region is known as The Palm of Zalas. It is a land of shifting secrets and hidden enemies. Much like the Burning Sea, the great desert that stretches out eastward, the people are enigmatic and abstruse. Words are spoken with obscured meaning, and the culture is steeped in nuances. The land is foreboding, offering seductive whispers of wealth and power only to deliver swift death to the unwary. The Amir of the land, Hashad Zareb Ibn Taariq, rules over the arid kingdom from within his residence in the opulent city of Tamyr. The alabaster palace sits atop a hill at the edge of a savannah, and the views from its minaret-capped towers take in the great yawn of the territories from all around.
In Ahrammaria, assassins lurk in shadowy corridors, thieves infest the pathways of bustling bazaars, and bandits lay in wait by popular roadways for unwary passersby. Even while legions of Ahrammari soldiers bolster the larger cities and outposts, warriors of various tribal affiliation are in locked in an incessant struggle over their age-old territorial disputes. For as sovereign as the land of Ahrammaria reigns on its bed of swirling sands, it is wrought in civil strife and sits on the precipice of upheaval.
But the politics of rulership and governmental affairs are not the concern of this story. This is not a tale of sheiks and courts. This is not an account over the rival clans of the land and their turmoil. This is a story about lowly murderers and liars; marauders that ride as a plague upon the provinces and prey upon the weak and unwary. Coming from a variety of walks of life, their number is gathered from the native peoples as well as those having come to Ahrammaria from the outlands. They call themselves the Red Talons, and their reputation is nothing if not one of malefaction. Their late leader, Hadid Al-kaib, had prospered greatly in his wicked career as a desert bandit. He had ridden his lot of vicious raiders back and forth across the sands of Ahrammaria and into local legend. They had pillaged and raped and murdered to their black heart's content. But that era would inevitably come to a violent close.
Hadid was dead. His corpse lay stiff and cold on a feast hall table, his head nowhere to be seen. Around the mauled cadaver, the remnant of the Red Talons cavorted and indulged in the carnal delights and hedonistic pleasures that only the city of Kaladaar could provide. And of all the service houses in Kaladaar, the ones run by the fat merchant Zosar were known to be the most epicurean in their ministrations. They attracted the most low-borne and sordid of characters. And thusly, they were common haunts for members of the Red Talons.
A feast was being held in Hadid's "honor". Both allies and rivals of the dark-hearted man sang drunken songs of his misdeeds, often boasting of their own deplorable acts in the same breath. Whores and grog were both served up in great abundance at the den of debauchery, and the district was filled with their raucous cacophony. But the Red Talons were splintered with the Bandit King's death. Despite the festivities, the once well-organized mob had already started to break down into conspiring gaggles of the thugs. Many aspired to replace Hadid as leader of the Red Talons. But few had the capacity for it. And as word of Hadid's death spread across the land, other gangs would surely seek to fill the vacuum of power left by the infamous marauder. As the fire lights of Kaladaar burned and flickered in the warm night air, so too did the power-hungry eyes of ambitious villains.
Thank you for reading through my introduction. If this setting has interested you, please do not hesitate to read on to the more detailed lore and roleplay requirements. If by the end you are still interested in joining, the CS template is already available so that you can get right to making your character application.
To sum things up, this roleplay will feature the PCs as a group of desert bandits in my own original setting of Ahrammaria. Their leader has been recently killed, and while they celebrate his life and death, the vacuum of power is obvious, and a power struggle is impending. Our characters will already be acquainted with one another at the start of the story, so the "getting-to-know-each-other" introductions can be skipped over (thank the roleplay gods!). From past or present goals, they will band together in a bid to come out on top (or at the very least, avoid a violent death).
I'm looking for 5 to 8 dedicated players for this Roleplay. I put some serious elbow grease into making this setting, so only truly interested parties need apply.
[/tab]
[tab=World Lore]
The region of Ahrammaria is "Middle-Eastern-ish" in theme, heavily inspired by one of my favorite fandoms, Conan the Barbarian (best reflecting Turan and parts of Hyrkania). I refer to the fandom not by the video games or movies (though I LOVE both of the Schwarzenegger films), but by the various stories written over the decades as well as the 70's/80's comic book publications under Marvel. Nothing in the RP is referenced on the actual fandom at all. Therefore, no knowledge of Conan the Barbarian is needed in order to participate in this roleplay. Another heavy influence on this RP's theme is the fantasy artwork of Frank Frazzetta and Boris Vallejo. All of these inspirations equate to the Sword and Sorcery aspect of the setting with the cultural mix, monsters, magic, and technology levels present in Ahrammaria.
My worldbuild has many prominent fantasy races outside of humans. Although humans are still the most popular of the denizens of the world, plenty of other sapient races abound. I have contrived some native races for the players to create characters from. However, beings from other mythos have the potential to exist in the setting as well. The big limit in that aspect is creatures with innate magical abilities, as that is simply not how magic usually works in this world (more on that in a bit).
The following are races native to the Ahrammaria region. I would very much prefer the players to create original characters using one of the described peoples below. Please feel free to ask about any details that you would need in order to better flesh out your character for a submission.
Ahrammari Human: Humans are the most popular race in Ahrammaria. They inhabit every major city and outpost, barring the Orcish village of Mez' Kabal. These native humans are deep-toned with wavy, dark hair and tend towards sharp features. Brown to honey-colored eyes is the norm for them, though eyes of green and hazel are uncommonly found as well. Average heights are between five to 6 feet tall, with females typically being slightly shorter than the males. (Helpful character faceclaim searches for humans could include: Armenian, Persian, Babylonian, Egyptian, Indian, Arabic, etc.)
- Lifespan: Adulthood reached in late teens/early twenties. Middle age at 40. Elderly at age 70.
Apisian: Named so after their patron deity Apis, the Apisian peoples have a humanoid upper body with the head of a bull. Their entire bodies are covered in short fur, and they have unguligrade legs with cloven hooves. Apisians have no tails. As a whole, they are a stubborn race, slow to adapt to new ideas and as a result are very traditional. Religion plays a huge part of their culture, with temples and worship being at the center of every Apisian community. Their people were traded as slaves in eras past, and only recently had they won their freedom by proving paramount in winning a past war for the great-grandfather of the Amir. The Apisians were granted their freedom in a royal decree and have settled painstakingly settled themselves into Ahrammaria since. However, the rest of the races of the land still bear a stigma against them. One of the longer-lived races, there are still a few elder Apisians that can still remember the days when their people were shackled into servitude.
- Lifespan: Adulthood reached in early twenties. Middle age in early 60's. Elderly at 100 years old
Black Orcs (Desert Orcs): Ages ago, Orc tribes from the west migrated to Ahrammaria. While most simply passed through to other regions, a handful stayed and built communities in the desert. They learned to survive the environment from the native populace, digging wells and securing habitats against the sandstorms and wildlife. Generations later, and the Orcs have adapted to the climate, their green skin deepening to a considerably darker hue than their predecessors. Mez'Kabal is the largest and most predominant Orc community in Ahrammaria. They have built a large settlement around a naturally occurring oasis in the middle of the kingdom. They are generally hostile to outsiders, and the sentiment is generally mutual. The Amir grants them leniency, as long as the Orcs continue to make regular tithes and stay within their territories.
- Lifespan: Adulthood reached in early teens. Middle age in early 30's. Elderly at age 50
Hyaenah: One of the oldest races in Ahrammaria, the Hyeanah were deeply seated in their presence when the desert was only being discovered by the other races that now call it their native land. Ironically, they are also one of the most short-lived. Because of their limited lifespans, the Hyaenah are not very cultured or even particularly civilized. Many of the other denizens of Ahrammaria do not recognize them as being sapient, considering them to be little more than capable beasts. They exist in small packs, often living in crude huts on the outskirts of inhabited areas. The phonic language of the Hyaenah is rudimentary, with their communication with one another consisting of barks and growls and whines. Most recognizable of the Hyaenah is their near-constant giggle. Entrepreneurial merchants have taken advantage of the Hyaenah people, cultivating them as pups and raising them into competent fighters. They would then be contracted out as warriors after quickly growing into adulthood.
- Lifespan: Adulthood reached in 3 or 4 years. Middle age at 10. Elderly at age 25
Krokotam: A large, reptilian people that resemble a bipedal crocodile. They are one of the larger races of Ahrammaria, as well as one of the longer-lived. Their skin is scaled and rough, with sandy colors and a shaggy mane of dark hair. Krokotam are infamous for their cruel dispositions and unrivaled strength. They are often found in employ as slavers, bodyguards, or other jobs inclined to violence. Though they are smaller than the Nephilim, the average Krokotam is more than a match for even a swarthy example of the desert giants. Krokotam vocalize in a rough, hissing articulation. They are often solitary from one another, and only seek out others of their kind for mating purposes. One of the rarest races in the region, the Krokotam are often gawked at when espied by others, even native Ahrammari. They gestate and grow into adulthood quickly. But after reaching maturity, the Krokotam age much more slowly.
- Lifespan: Eggs hatch after 8 months, Adulthood reached in 15 years. Middle age at 100. Elderly at age 200.
Mardamaar: In their dogma, the Mardamaar are descendants of the goddess Shamaran. Shamaran is depicted as a half-snake, half-woman, and her people bear that likeness in that their upper half is humanoid whilst the lower is scaled and serpentine. They come in a variety of colors though most are earthen and brown. Those with more vibrant colors are regarded as especially beautiful by their society. Adult Mardamaar grow to lengths of anywhere between 12 to eighteen feet. However, most of that length is their snake half. As they stand, they bear roughly the same height as a human. Mardamaar are a rare species in Ahrammaria, often existing in tiny groups and living in remote habitations away from the rest of the populace.
- Lifespan: Eggs hatch after 2 years, Adulthood reached in late teens to early twenties. Middle age at 45. Elderly at age 70
Nephilim: Giants of the desert region. In many ways, they resemble humans. However, the Nephilim stand at anywhere between 9 to 12 feet high and can weight several hundred pounds. They are stocky and well-built, with tawny or olive-skinned complexions. Their faces are wide and flat, with course, dark hair. They tend to have large, rounded ears, and the males commonly sport robust beards. Nephilim are reclusive by nature, and prefer to live in smaller, outlying villages over the large, noisy cities of Ahrammaria. They are regarded as a dutiful, reliable people and often employed for hard work.
- Lifespan: Adulthood reached in early twenties. Middle age in early 50's. Elderly at 100 years old
Sun Goblin (Desert Goblin): Unlike the commonly regarded goblins of the west, known for their cowardly and skittish nature, the Sun Goblins of Ahrammaria are vicious and full of audacity. Also contrary to their outland cousins, the Sun Goblins do not have an aversion to the bright light of day. Goblins are banned from most places of civility, and usually run off on sight. Where goblin communities do exist within city walls, they are usually hidden places, often only accessible to creatures with small frames such as theirs. Most goblins live the lives of thieves, holing up in small congregations and plucking through crowds that gather in market districts after wrapping their bodies in makeshift disguises to hide the telltale green of their flesh. Many of these goblins also file down the horns that jut from their foreheads, and wear hoods to obscure the stumps as well as their yellow-orange eyes.
- Lifespan: Adulthood reached in about 10 to 12 years. Middle age at 30. Elderly at age 55
If you absolutely do not wish to roleplay as a regional race, you may instead relegate to a more typical fantasy race. These characters will be considered "Outlanders" and will not integrate as easily into Ahrammaria. They will be culturally at odds with the people and will have considerably less knowledge of the land and political climate.
This is not necessarily a comprehensive list. But there are plenty of options listed. As such, I don't anticipate having to add more to it. Keep in mind the limitations of Magic in this world setting if you choose to go with a non-Ahrammari OC.
Humans - Humans from cultures and regions outside of Ahrammaria. "Outlanders"
Catfolk - imported as slaves from the outlands. Brought in by slaver/traders from the Southern regions of Kunyia.
Centaur - Originally from the lands of Aeolia, centaurs have in recent generations begun to explore the world.
Cyclops - This monstrous race would be on par in size with the Nephilim. Cyclops are belligerent and crude.
Lizardmen - imported as slaves from the outlands. Brought in by slaver/traders. Rudimentary language skills.
I'm less inclined to allow the following races on account of their traditionally long life cycles. It isn't a hard NO. But definitely not something I will easily accept into the setting.
Dwarves - Short, stocky and very strong. Known for their metal-smithing affinity, live underground for most of their lives.
Generally stubborn, and very beard-y.
Elves - Tall, slender and agile. Pointed ears and noble features.
Do not show age like humans as they grow older.
These are big, obvious NOs. But the list can grow as other races come to mind or attention. Basically, nothing OP in power and/or magic reliant or otherwise being extraplanar in origin. I'm also disallowing races/sub-races that take away too much from the overlying theme of the RP. That is not to say that these species don't exist in the world. But they most definitely are not allowed as PCs.
Angels/Demons: Absolutely not. Not in any form, not even in any half-form. Otherworldly entities might exist in pacts with sorcerers, but these will not be allowed to be written/played by the players.
Ghosts: Definitely a thing that exists. but not as a PC.
Jinn: Totally in theme, but way too OP to allow as a PC or a PC's supplement.
Dragons: Not here, my dear. Dragons don't inhabit the lands of Ahrammaria. Wyverns do. But Wyvern's are bestial animals, and not sapient.
Draconians: Nope. Too OP by my standards to be allowed as a PC.
Vampires/Werewolves: Too far out of theme for the Ahrammaria region. Also, tends to get too OP for a PC.
Tieflings/Aasimar: Firstly, this isn't D&D. And secondly, no PCs with ties to supernatural/extraplanar origin.
Kitsune/Oni: Out of theme and too OP with their magic capabilities.
Half-breeds: Just isn't something that exists in the world. The different species of sapient races cannot normally interbreed with one another.
Other Anthros: If you have a hankering to RP as some kind of anthropomorphic character, there are already a few races listed in the previous categories that are acceptable to the setting. I don't want this RP to turn into a Furry convention. So, I'm limiting it to the ones already listed.
Magic is not rampantly available in this world. As a Sword and Sorcery setting, magic is both rare and usually very ritualistic. Objects of power, and pacts with demonic entities are often (but not always) at the root of a sorcerer's ability. Even the smallest spell must be meditated upon and often requires the use of many components. Very few people have the psychological fortitude to wield magic, and the study of that power is something to be undertaken only by those that would devote their lives to its pursuit. Sorcerers are feared and infamous for their powers. Often, they are cult leaders or tyrannical rulers that abuse their powers. Less sociopathic practitioners might otherwise relegate to a hermetic lifestyle away from others to hone their witchcraft. Regardless of what path a sorcerer might take, their kind are extremely rare and sought after only with great trepidation.
The technology level of the region is roughly bronze age. An influx of goods from more advanced regions has recently become commonplace in the markets, as well as traded from outlander caravans. Therefore, weapons of iron and steel are present to those who can afford to purchase them from traders of exotic goods. No region of the world is more developed than the iron age. Though, Black Powder is an extremely rare commodity that is occasionally imported from the far east regions of the world (colloquially referred to as The Orient). It has not yet been weaponized into firearms but can be packed into hard casings with an implanted fuse in order to fashion a crude explosive.
Because of the extreme desert heat, heavy armor is not only impractical to wear, but potentially perilous to one's health. Only in the precipice of war do soldiers don heavy armors, and even those metal pieces are often just chest plates, helmets and leg guards. Most common armor is consisted of hardened leather. Sometimes with metal plates or studs affixed to it for added deflection.
The land of Ahrammaria is one of many faiths. Few people are atheist in this world, as denial of the gods would take a certain level of ignorance not easily attained. Even the low-borne criminals hold some form of acknowledgement to the gods at large. Shrines can be found in just about any place of significant gathering, and even the traveling caravans have makeshift altars to which they pray and meditate upon during their travels. Though there are likely many more obscure religions and faiths in the mix of the Ahrammari peoples, the main religions are as follows:
Izalad
This is the foremost faith in Ahrammaria. Izalad is endorsed by the Amir as the official religion of the kingdom, and the rulership is closely tied in with the dogmatic doctrine. Izalad is a monotheistic belief in the god Zalas as the omniscient deity that created the sea, land, and heavens in a time immemorial. Followers of Izalad are called Izalim. Their doctrines preach of peace offered to others, and practices of discipline in both physical and spiritual hygiene. Izalad is very ritualistic, and very traditional. And this is reflected in the general mood of the people of Ahrammaria. Gender roles are prevalent and even lawfully enforced, though the social expectations in most of the kingdom's societies usually do well to sustain these dogmas of their own accord. Prayer to the sun is offered three times a day, as Zalas is synonymous with the Light of Heaven.
Eternal Life is granted in death to those that uphold the tenets of Izalad and uphold the teachings of the prophets:
1) Actions are judged by their intent
2) Zalas only accepts the pure of heart and soul into eternity
3) Do not involve yourself in what does not concern you
4) Love for your brother what you love for yourself
5) One should not harm themselves or others
6) Do not focus on amassing material possessions.
Shajiri
The religion of Shajir believes in a trinity of creator gods. They are Rashad, Jidam, and Makala. They rule creation in the separate domains of the Heaven, Aerth, and Sea. In the Shajiri dogma, a fourth deity known as Yamahr rules the Narakana, a place of eternal pain and suffering.
Rashad rules the heavens, Varghamma, and passes judgement on the souls of the deceased. Those who have led lives of benevolence and charity are admitted into the realm of paradise. Other souls are turned away and either go to the Sea or to Narakana.
Jidam rules the realm of Aerth, the plane of mortals. He is in charge of enacting justice and keeping balance in the world. He also keeps tally of the rights and wrongs that are committed by the followers of Shajiri. He ushers the souls of the dead up to Rashad.
Makala is a goddess of the sea and its mysterious depths. All lost souls who do not ascend into the heavens but are not wicked enough to be sent to Narakana instead go into the deep darkness of the sea to be cradled by Makala.
The Cult of Apis
This religion is practiced almost exclusively by the Apisians. They worship the avatar Apis, a bull-god who aeons ago came down from his golden temple amid the heavens and created the Apisian people in his image. Apisians do not deny the existence of other gods but believe that Apis is exclusively the god that their people owe fealty.
Appeasing Apis is the focal point of this faith, and followers of the cult are constantly taking action in the name of Apis or otherwise making regular sacrifices to altars. Tithing is also a common thing, and wealthy Apisians often have elaborate shrines to their Bull-God in their homes and place of business.
The dogma of the Apisians believes that Apis will take up all his children to his realm when they die. But their place in his kingdom is determined by the favor they incurred during their life. Only children who died early are pardoned from this scale, and are believed to be reborn in a new life to have another chance.
Morlochian
The Orcs do not believe in any gods, but rather that everything in creation possesses an inherent spirit. In an ancient age, Morloch was a great teacher of this philosophy in Orc culture, and his teachings are spread through the Morlochian faith. There is no realm of eternal paradise or suffering in the Morlochian religion. Instead, the spirit of the deceased passes into a new form when it dies. What that form is, depends on how honorable a life was lived in its previous incarnation. Orcs believe that their race is a superior form to the other sapient races of the world.
For orcs, an honorable life consists of winning just battles and protecting one's family and clan. Raiding and pillaging are not seen as misdeeds unless they are done to other orcs and in an unfair method. The killing of lesser forms (i.e. other races and animals) is not dishonorable, as long as the death was with purpose. Any orc that has lived their life in a dishonorable manner risks being reborn as a lower form after they die.
Sha-Maar
In the religion of Sha-Maar, the followers believe in the Goddess Shamaran. She is the divine Aerth mother that birthed all life in the world. Shamaran is a giant half-woman, half-snake. Mardamaar and some Krokotam are the main worshippers inthe Sha-Maar religion. Shamaran is often depicted as encircling the world with her lower, snake-half. Shamaran's love is unending for her followers, and they are all welcomed to her bosom upon death regardless of how they lived life. The only thing she asks of her people is that they make regular blood sacrifices to her. These sacrifices are violent, and usually involve an unwilling captive as the sacrifice. For this reason, followers of Sha-Maar are not public about their faith. In many places, they are even persecuted. Ahrammaria is one of those places. As such, the temples and meeting places of Sha-Maar rites and rituals are kept secret.
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[tab=Map]
Aljibaar
The most northwestern settlement in Ahrammaria, Aljibaar is an out-of-the-way farming village that makes use of the nearby Ashari Falls for irrigation to their crops. Located on the grassy plains between the Arion mountains and the Buring Sea, the village enjoys a more agreeable and inviting climate compared to most of the kingdom. The population are small and guarded to outsiders, not offering much in the way of amenities to travelers. Humans are the majority of the inhabitants. But there is a small mix of other, common races that also dwell here.
Al-Mimr
One of the smaller outlying villages in Ahrammaria, Al-Mimr is an often-forgotten place nestled in the arid hills overlooking the edge of the Burning Sea. Al-Mimr has a minimal populace, and goat herding is the trade of the peoples there. A significant presence of Mardamaar live in Al-Mimr, and they do well to keep to themselves.
Ashari Falls
A beautiful waterfall cascades from the craggy heights of the Arion mountains. The base of the waterfall forms a small lake that dissapears into an underground cavern and subsequent river. The waterway flows through uncharted waterways until it finds its way to the surface again in the depth of The Maw to the southeast.
Band of the Three Daggers
A group of outlaws known as the Band of the Three Daggers have claimed a small region of northern Ahrammaria as their territory. This area is generally avoided by anyone not wanting to incur robbery and possible death at the hands of these bandits. While the Amir has many times sent in soldiers to rid the area of these criminals, they have repeatedly eluded capture.
Buried Shrine of Ta' Lom
Deep in the desert, the entrance to an old ruin is sometimes swept open by sandstorms to reveal the foreboding relic of a temple to the evil deity Ta'Lom. Worshippers of Ta'Lom must practice in secret, as their lot are openly persecuted by royal decree. If caught, disciples are arrested and often executed with little deliberation.
The Burning Sea
A sprawling expanse of seemingly endless sand dunes that disappear into the eastern horizon. The Burning Sea is an uncrossable desert landscape that borders the edge of the Kingdom of Ahrammaria. To attempt to travel through it is an assured death, even by the most resilient of peoples. The Burning Sea has been an effective buffer for the ruling Amirs since the beginning of their rule. The massive desert, along with the Arion Mountains that cradle the border of the rest of Ahrammaria, have effectively safeguarded the kingdom from invading forces. The desert alone is a formidable hazard. But the terrible creatures that live within its basking climate are just as deadly.
Damasc
As the closest city to Tamyr, Damasc bathes in the collateral trade that passes through to the capital. The city exists mostly as an outlying trade hub from Tamyr, especially to those barred from entering the capital. It is also used as a staging area for Ahrammari troops and has a large garrison of soldiers present at all times. Because of the military presence, crime is considerably lower than in settlements further out. There is a clan of Apisians that live in Damasc that are renown across the land for their iron-smithing talents they learned three generations ago from a Dwarven outlander.
Kaladaar
Regarded as the most hedonistic and degenerate locale in all of Ahrammaria, Kaladaar is tolerated in its shameless depravity because it is also host to the miners that extract the cassiterite ore from the Halas Crater. The crater provides the ore that makes tin, used to create the bronze that has been a great source of wealth for the kingdom. Although Kaladaar boasts a generous market district, it is the Service Houses that are the infamy of the seedy city. Wine, women, and song all abound in a booming economic conspiracy that keeps the workers of the mines content to their backbreaking labor. Of course, there is also a fair number of slaves that do the more menial and laborious tasks. Miners are not the only ones that enjoy the indulgences of Kaladaar, of course. As its reputation spread over the years, men (and women) of all sorts came to pass through the city's gates to indulge their desires. Kaladaar also sees the biggest influx of outlanders, as it is the closest large city to the western pass through the Arion Mountains. For many foreigners, treacherous Kaladaar is their first and last stop in Ahrammaria.
The Maw
Located between Shih-Ras and Aljibaar, The Maw is a great canyon that opens up in the arid savannah. to many creatures of the region, its shaded recess is a respite from a more hostile environment above. The underground river stemming from Aahari falls also sprouts from the canyon walls and pours into a gentle lake. Contraptions of pullies and rope and sluices route water from The Maw to a collection station where it is loaded onto carts and transported to Shih-Ras and the other outlying communities of Ahrammaria. The water trade is one of the most stable ventures in a desert environment, after all. The biggest danger outside of bandits, is the monstrous creatures that tend to congregate in the canyon.
Temple of Shajir
Although the prominent religion in Ahrammaria is Izalad, the monotheistic worship of the god Zalas, a few other religions do manage to pronounce themselves. Shajiri is another faith that is practiced and is one that believes in a tripartite theism. The Temple of Shajir is the center of the religion's community in Ahrammaria.
Mez'Kabal Tribe
Nearly in the center of Ahrammaria is the tribal grounds of the Mez'Kabal; the Black Orcs that call Ahrammaria their homeland. Many different clans comprise the Mez'Kabal, and they have within their own people, many a civil rivalry. However, they will unite with little dispute in their undying quarrel with the other races that occupy the desert kingdom. The Orcs are fiercely territorial, and brutal in their delivery of rebuttal for trespassing on their lands. They live much more primitively than the cities belonging to the Amir and are natural survivors of the harsh Ahrammari desert. They are also natural raiders, seeing the robbery of caravans and pillaging of poorly guarded villages and outposts as a way of life.
The behavior of the Mez'kabal orcs is tolerated by the Amir for one simple reason: Gloaming Powder.
The Orcish shamans of Ahrammaria are unique in the world for their ability to produce a chalky, blue drug known as Gloaming Powder. Its creation is a heavily guarded secret that only a few, elder shamans truly understand. And the knowledge is only passed down to a single apprentice for each master. Gloaming Powder can be mixed into an herbal tea, and ceremonially drunk during a waxing moon in order to be temporarily bestowed with visions of the future. The visions are difficult to decipher, and oftentimes the aftereffects of Gloaming Powder will render those who drink with a lasting madness. But the Orcs sparingly trade this and other valuables to the Amir in the form of tithes in order to be left in sanctity within their home of Mez'Kabal.
The Nomads
The enigmatic Nomads of the Desert are a mysterious people. They live away from the rest of civilized Ahrammaria, never coming into the cities of villages and purportedly live off of the desert without even the aid of the water wells dug upon the common travel routes. Their encampment is constantly moving, never staying in one place for more than a few days. Many strange and exaggerated tales surround the nomads, like their ability to ride the sandstorms like a stampede of horses.
Omun
This northerly-located village is best known for its lack of human populace. Not to say that humans do not live in Omun, but rather that they are inversely the minority there. The village is mostly comprised of Apisians and Nephilim. Though a handful of Mardamaar families exist there as well. Omun is otherwise unremarkable, except that it is a common stop on the road for those traveling to the Temple of Zalas from Shih-Ras or Aljibar.
Serpent's Nest
High in a lonely peak, known as The Devil's Finger, the den of a great serpentine creature is hidden away in the treacherous terrain. Tales of the creature that lives in that forbidden hole are older than any can remember. The cave entrance is seemingly impossible to reach. Most adventurers who have been stupid enough to attempt the climb have ended up seriously injured or dead. Though no one has seen the creature that lived in the cave for over three hundred years, the legends of the beast are still recanted to children to scare them back into the safety of their homes after nightfall.
Shih-Ras
If Kaladaar is the city of hedonistic indulgences in Ahrammaria, then Shih-Ras is the center of slave trade and gladiatorial fighting arenas. Though the underground fighting pits are common across all of Ahrammaria, no place raises such raucous celebration of it like Shih-Ras. Admittedly, the culture was inspired in Ahrammarian from the outlands. The name of Shih-Ras' most exalted arena reflects that fact by its very name, the Circus Magnus. Here, the Lanistas bring their pit fighters to fight (often to the death) in hopes of achieving a spot in the greatest of stages their trade can achieve. Most do not get passed the provincial brackets. And their fighters, or slaves, are fated to death and dismemberment. A great deal of money and glory is to be made in these circles. Both for the Lanistas and also for their fighters. Some slaves are even granted their freedom of they can secure a victory at a main event in the Circus Magnus. This does not often happen, of course.
The Swallowed Ruins
Lost to time and memory are the origin of these ancient ruins. Their architecture predates even the oldest of building in any city of Ahrammaria. The dunes of the Burning Sea periodically hide and then reveal various entrances in the crumbled remains, often after a sandstorm. Many looters and explorers both have delved the depths of the sunken structure. And the insides are reported to be a labyrinthine maze of passages, many corridors having caved in or otherwise filled impassibly with sand. More than a few individuals have entered, never to return. Whether they got lost in the confusing halls or met a more sinister fate is unknown. The ruins are large, and never fully covered by the desert dunes. An outpost with a water well has been established in the vicinity of the ruins and marks a common trade route.
The City of Tamyr
Home of the Amir and capital of Ahrammaria, Tamyr is a city that is gilded in opulence and wealth. Much of the trade in the kingdom passes through its guarded gates, as well as the caravans carrying the provincial tithes to the palace. The Royal Palace of Nashar is an ivory crown in the midst of merchant districts and skilled artisans. Special permission must be given by the royal magistrate in order to live or even sell merchandise within the walls of Tamyr. Only the finest goods and most well-reputed artisans are allowed to set themselves up inside the prosperous markets of Tamyr. A generous garrison of the finest warriors of the Amir's army are stationed in the city, keeping the nobility and rich merchant class well-protected from outside threats.
Just outside the city walls, splayed out for miles, is the detritus of shantytowns and other ramshackle habitations. This is the poor class that lives outside the official city border. Here, the quality of life is a stark contrast to the living situations of Tamyr inside the walls. Hunger is rampant, and the people are desperate and diseased. The most common occupation is that of a farmer or shepherd, either role trying their best to live off of the dry savannah.
Valley of the Dead
Said to be an accursed place, the Valley of the Dead is haunted by the angry spirits of those who are too vengeful to pass on to the afterlife. Despite being surrounded by rolling grasslands, the valley itself is a wasteland where nothing grows, and nothing lives. Not even the wind blows over the hard, cracked ground here. Dead trees dot the terrain sporadically, their desiccated, white carcasses reaching to a sky that is bereft of stars during nightfall. Many aspiring necromancers have made a journey to the Valley of the Dead in the pursuit of their craft. But few have returned.
The Wells
Across the desert, often dictating the route of trade paths, are dug what is colloquially known as The Wells. The Wells are just that, water wells dug into the earth to offer up communal rest stops for travelers on their way to villages and cities. Some of the larger wells are set up with minor outposts and structures to protect from the desert elements. A few have even become minor trade hubs when merchant caravans happen to convene. But most importantly, they are a source of life-giving water. Military patrols occasionally make rounds across Ahrammaria in order to assure that these wells remain free to use by the citizens and have not become lorded over by bandits or greedy despots.
Zabasai
What originally started out as a simple trading post, set up at a major crossroads on the routes between Kaladaar, Shih-Ras, and the capital of Tamyr, was gradually built upon over the years. Eventually, the outpost became a small village comprised of merchants and traders. The village eventually grew to establish a steady economy. Walls were built, guards were employed, and a governmental council was established. An envoy was sent to the palace in Tamyr to request acknowledgement as a province, in exchange for homage to the Amir. It was granted, and the merchant city of Zabasai was born.
Temple of Zalas
Izalad is the foremost religion in Ahrammaria, and is practiced by the majority of humans as well as a considerable number of peoples from other races. Nestled at the foot of the Arion Mountains in the northern reaches of Ahrammaria, the Temple of Zalas is a famous place of pilgrimage to followers of the faith. Generations ago, it was proclaimed by the Amir Jahaan Zareb to be a sacred place, and it is largely left alone by criminal sorts. Though, it is likely fear of the wrath of Zalas himself that keeps them at bay. Regardless, the place is inhabited by a priesthood and paid regular visits by pious individuals seeking to worship their patron deity.
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[tab=Roleplay Requisites - READ ME!]
This roleplay recruitment is not on a First Come, First Served basis. Character submissions will be accepted based on their suitability to the setting. Things I will be looking at are how well they are meshed into the setting/lore, how appropriate the character would be to the role they are made for, and if they are unique enough from other characters that I am also considering for acceptance (in other words, I am not likely to select two characters of the same archetype or overall disposition).
Simply stating your interest means little. Nor does it guarantee any kind of placeholder. Player interest is only taken seriously once a CS has been submitted for approval. Please feel free to ask me any questions regarding the setting in order to expedite the completion of that submission. I also will not be left waiting forever for players to get their submissions in. There is a deadline for applications, and it's a hard line in the sand. I have put a lot of effort into creating this setting, and therefore I only want people who are serious about joining to apply.
Regarding post-style, "Literacy" is the goal here. Quality over quantity, of course. But please make efforts to contribute substance with your posts. I'm not going to count words. But a single paragraph should be the bare minimum unless the situation calls for quick dialogue exchange.
This will be an action/adventure Roleplay, meaning that there will be a decent share of violence and danger. It is also intended to be rife with dark elements such as murder, slavery, and varying forms of brutality. To think of it as being a movie, it would most definitely be an R-rated film (within site limits, of course). If you are easily triggered or squicky about grim topics, I would rather you not join so we can both avoid problems down the road.
I am hoping to have this RP move at a pace of a couple of entries a week from each player. Two posts a week as a regular contribution is what I'm expecting. If you are not sure if you can meet this schedule, please do not apply. I'd rather err on the side of caution, than have to stall out the momentum of the story because we have to stop and wait for people that didn't have the availability to keep up.
The Out Of Character Chat (OOCC) will be on site. I'm not a big fan of Discord, nor am I any more available on there than I am here. Also, I feel that Discord OOCC tends to exclude people. We are all already on RPN, so it makes sense to keep the supporting threads on here as well.
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[tab=Rules]
ROLEPLAY RULES
1. Don't be an asshole in the OOCC. No Drama outside of IC roleplay (starting as soon as you read this), and don't argue with the GM (me) over the setup or events pertaining to the roleplay. If you don't like it, you don't have to be here. Simple.
2. No Metagaming. Just because you as a player know about certain information, doesn't mean your PC necessarily knows about it.
3. No God-modding: Taking control of other player's characters or predetermining their reactions. This includes auto-hitting in combat.
4. Player Characters must be created according to the setting. Please keep to the Sword and sorcery theme. I feel I have given more than enough preface to work off of between the introduction, the lore, and my own character sheet.
- The PCs are part of a fractured gang of desert raiders.
- They are generally not altruistic and have likely committed terrible crimes during their run with the Red Talons.
- But that doesn't mean that they can't have notions of loyalty, either.
5. Original characters only. This really shouldn't be an issue that I foresee. But I'll mention it just in case. Do not make a character that is swapped over/reskinned from some show/movie/game/etc.
6. This is a Literate Roleplay. I do not want to see one-liners here. I do not even want to see three liners. I expect regular contributions of at least a paragraph. Dialogue exchange is the exception to this, as I do not expect you to build a story around a casual conversation between two characters. But efforts should be made to give the other players some substance to respond to with your posts.
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[tab=CS Template]
Interested parties may make a single character application. Pets or mounts may be included in either Signature Items field or the Extras field. The details do not need to be long or complex. The character sheets are for simple reference, not a full-on biography. I'm not going to read a thousand-word backstory, and all those details probably aren't going to matter to the overall story anyway. This is a GROUP roleplay, after all. Accepted Character Sheets will be reposted to a CS Repository thread.
Also, please keep your character facelclaims/image references at a reasonable size. For reference: If the full-sized image does not fit in a normal page view, it is too big.
PLEASE DO NOT USE FANCY BBCODE FOR YOUR CHARACTER SHEET
(Character Sheet Template. Delete everything inside the parentheses)
(Provide a character illustration somewhere in your CS. NO ANIME-STYLED ARTWORK)
Name: (Your character's name. duh!)
Species/Race: (taken from the lists of approved species, please)
Sex: (innies ♀, or outies ♂. For simplicity, all the races of Ahrammaria come in one of the two genders of male or female and will have pronouns according to that designation.)
Orientation: Straight, gay, bi, etc.
Age: (ask if you are unsure about age equivalents in the fantasy races)
Height: (How tall is your character? Metric or imperial are both acceptable measurement standards)
Weight: (optional. Again, metric and imperial are both acceptable measures)
Build: (optional if weight is given. Simple body type descriptor like stocky, lanky, voluptuous, etc.)
Distinguishing Features: (optional. scars, tattoos, etc. Anything atypical of their appearance that would leave a lasting impression on people they meet)
(Brief) History: (a couple of paragraphs that encapsulate an abridged history of your character in Ahrammaria and their time with the Red Talons raider gang. No more than 600 words, please)
Couture: (optional. A BRIEF overview of your character's typical attire/everyday clothing. NOT combat gear.)
Signature Item/s: (optional. whether it be some kind of equipment, a unique piece of clothing, a magical relic, a favorite weapon, a pet, etc. Some kind of item that your character is especially attached to or otherwise has personal value to them/is commonly carried by them. Don't go bonkers with this and keep the descriptions brief.)
Extras: (Other information on details about your character that are not covered in the above fields. Keep it brief, please.)
For reference, here is a completed CS in the form of my own character that I will be writing as in the RP:
View attachment 1074147 Name: Jinka Species: Sun Goblin Sex: Female Age: 32 (early middle-age) Height: 128 cm Weight: 46 kg - - Build: Muscular/Paunchy
Distinguishing Features:
- Scarred/Blind left eye
- Broken left horn
- Long, black hair w/prominent white streaks
- Orcish Tribal Tattoo on back of neck/head
- Body is covered in scars from battles/animal attacks
History:
Jinka was in her young life, a seasoned pit fighter. She was infamous in the underground circles in Shih-Ras for her brazen showmanship as well as being a brutal killer. Although she was a slave at the time, Jinka reveled in her lot in life. The goblin had fought alongside the Black Orcs in tribal disputes against the warriors of the Human Shieks. When her allies fell in battle, the Sun Goblin was taken prisoner and eventually auctioned off. Her long-term master was a Krokotam by the name of Sheh-shihn, and the cruel creature would often put her up against opponents and creatures that seemed assured to win the bout against her.
Eventually the day came where Jinka lost a fight and was egregiously injured in the process. That failure would forfeit the goblin the use of her left eye. Typically, injured pit fighters were tossed to the lions, quite literally. However, instead of letting her be killed off in a bloody spectacle, a younger Hadid Al-kaib quickly stepped up to purchase the crippled goblin from Sheh-shihn. Hadid had been a regular purveyor of the pit fights in Shih-Ras and had been a fan of Jinka's work. Already having been established as leader of the Red Talons raider group, Hadid easily paid for Jinka's purchase from her greedy lanista.
Several years passed, and Jinka loyally and gleefully served out her role amid the desert bandits. She quickly became Hadid's right hand, his personal bodyguard and adjutant, and the closest thing the goblin might have ever had to a friend. She was feared and respected by her peers in the Red Talons, and jealously envied by others that felt she had risen to prominence in the gang all too quickly. Despite her ability, Jinka would always face the stigma of discrimination amongst the other races. Many of the members of the Red Talons hated taking orders from a goblin. Much less a goblin that had been fatefully plucked from a death as a pit slave.
Jinka had always faced a capricious future. It had been the narrative of her whole life. Now that Hadid had been killed, a turmoil had begun to stir in the gang's ranks. It seemed that Jinka would have to hazard a new chapter of bloody altercations. And all the while, the goblin withheld a secret she'd been entrusted with by Hadid in the event that he would be suddenly killed, much as like what had recently transpired.
Couture:
Jinka is commonly garbed in cloth wraps and linen sirwal trousers. She dresses immodestly, as is common of Goblins, with a fair amount of her skin exposed to the biting winds and hammering sun of the Ahrammari climate. Pelts, horns, and teeth taken from her various hunts and kills are all regular parts of Jinka's outfit.
Signature Items: - Sabatons and Greaves, "Vulture Armor": Taken from questing crusaders that journeyed to Ahrammaria, Jinka acquired these wicked looking pieces of leg and foot armor from the outlanders after she killed them.
- Catfolk Pelt:
One particularly noticeable article of clothing that Jinka commonly wears is a bright yellow pelt, spotted in darker markings. This morbid raiment was cut from a felinid slave that Jinka acquired through a trade with her fellow Red Talons. Once she had possession of the young catfolk, Jinka proceeded to skin the creature for its pelt and now wears it as a favorite item of clothing.
Extras:
View attachment 1074144
Indigenous to Ahrammaria, a giant lizard species known as the Rajkali inhabit the edges of the savannahs and rocky outcrops amid the sand dunes. They are regarded as an apex predator, rivaling the sand worms of the deep desert in their dominance of the food chain. Only the bravest (or foolish) have attempted to steal an egg from a Rajkali nest in order to raise as their own or sell on the market.
Kagha is one such juvenile Rajkali. She is Jinka's pet and mount, with the goblin's meager weight being inconsequential to the great reptile as it pugnaciously roves the desert with Jinka hunched upon the saddle on Kagha's back. The Rajkali is nowhere near full-grown and is only about 6 meters long from her shout to the tip of her tail.
This is the way the world ends.
This is the way the world ends.
This is the way the world ends.
Not with a bang but a whimper.
-T.S. Eliot, The Hollow Men
At the end of what is now fabled as the Era of Nations, world militaries battled their wars into a crescendo. It is unsure who began the trend, but eventually the Earth was thoroughly scorched by nuclear fire. Billions died in these attacks. Governments soon crumbled into anarchy. Without power and order, the complex infrastructures that the human race depended upon ceased to function. Famine and disease soon crawled across the planet. Those who had survived the nuclear bombs were condemned to slowly starve to death as a subsequent global winter set in, spanning the earth and holding unbroken for several years. An iota of the human race survived this extinction event by hiding in bunkers and shelters for as long as they could manage before eventually emerging back into their spoiled environment once again. When the nuclear winter finally thawed, only a realm of endless wasteland remained, covered in the mangled ruins of a long-dead civilization. Some creatures managed to endure the long winter as well, though their successive generations would be malformed and grotesque progeny.
It has been many uncounted years since the first survivors emerged to stake out their claim on the blasted earth, and these remnants of the human race have dared to make feeble attempts at rebuilding their societies and civilizations. Refurbished and repurposed, the bones of the old world have been pitched and welded together as the scaffolding to the new. But this world is cruel and unforgiving. It is not a place that rewards kindness and generosity. Outposts and fortified habitations shelter those with a mind for order and community. While others yet scour the wasteland like hungry jackals as marauding bandits. These raiders fight and rape and kill one another just as readily as they prey upon those seeking to start a new age out of the nuclear ash. The outposts have laws, but they are weak and meaningless outside of their protective walls. Fear rules the outlying badlands. A Fear that breaks law and order like old and brittle bones left in the wasteland sun. To these malefactors, there are no rules but the rule of the strong and the cunning. Murder is their way of life, as every day is a struggle for survival in the wasteland. Theft is a necessity, and violence is often the means by which it is orchestrated. Virtue has long left the hearts of these men and women as they have in many ways become little more than animals.
Be vicious.
Be brutal.
Or be dead.
This request thread is one meant to find someone to roleplay with me as a Daddy/daughter duo of Raiders. Maybe they operate alone, or maybe they are part of a larger gang with a unifying leader. Together they have been surviving in the wasteland for years, the daughter actually having been born into the wretched environment. She knows no world other than this broken, treacherous existence. How long ago the apocalypse happened is purposely ambiguous. Maybe no one alive in the current day knows what the old world was like, firsthand. Maybe only the elderly have distant memories of it. Or maybe it was only a couple of decades ago. It is all up for discussion as we brainstorm our characters together. The same thing goes for the amount of technology that has generally been salvaged and resurrected from the ruins of the old world. All these factors are totally up for determining with my partner as well.
One thing I would very much like to emphasize however, is that the Dad/daughter pair share a twisted love for one another and are much closer and more intimate than a father and his child should naturally be. This setting being one of a world gone mad and feral, I would like to forego them having to "come-to-terms" with their feelings, or "slow-burn" into a blossoming romance. In other words, they are an amorous and sexual pair from the get-go of the roleplay. The rules and taboos of current, modern society never even occur or apply to them, and they do whatever they want without moral conundrum.
Among other elements, this RP will have a heavy focus on an incestuous relationship between the two of them that eventually produces a pregnancy. But before you read any further, here is a list of those and other key features of this RP that I would like my writing partner to enjoy as narrative elements to the story. I would very much like a potential partner to be interested in these notions, instead of just reciprocating in a quid pro quo. It isn't an extensive list by any means. And I just want us to both be enthusiastic about the core content of the RP.
Blood-related incest between a father and daughter.
A considerable age gap (minimum of him being twice her age).
ideally, I'd like to RP her as being 16 and with him being 40-ish +
Size difference, with her being much smaller in physique than her daddy.
Pregnancy, to include writing passed the act of him breeding her.
Narrative violence as the story calls for it.
Not against one another, but more of them-against-the-world.
I welcome other dark and graphic concepts to this setting as well.
My Character: I will be writing the role of the young daughter. I would like to ideally have her in the age of 16 years old. This is just old enough to be believably (as far as fiction is concerned) deadly and capable but still have the underage taboo. Also, this age range would put her as having recently come into her nubile physique/womanly curvature. Her name will be Badger. However, Daddy can have a slew of pet names for her if you wish. Even weird or depraved ones, as it totally fits the setting. I have a basic idea made out for her physical proportions, as well as a personality. But I'd like for us fill out the details of both our character's dynamic together.
Badger's temperament will be that of a fiery hellion: A personality with a hair trigger and a sadistic streak a mile wide. She loves to torment her captives and does not regard mercy or pity as positive notions. She is brash and impulsive, not thinking for the long game, and usually not even passed the immediate moment. She is generally hostile and aggressive to new faces. But she absolutely melts for Daddy, mewling and groping like a playful kitten when she has his focus and vying jealously (and sometimes violently) for his attention if he ever ignores her for something/someone else. She will act out if she does not get her way and needs to constantly be reined in by her protective patron lest she get herself into situations that could prove detrimental.
Badger is also a rare case in this world, as she is actually capable of bearing offspring. Many denizens of the wasteland have been rendered infertile due to their constant exposure to the low-yield radiation that has seeped into the soil, food, water, and just about everything around them. Many who have been able to sire children, seem to produce offspring who are invariably infertile, or otherwise have stillborn infants (leading to a crisis of a dwindling population). But even worse are the subsequent generations that are born as mutant aberrations.
As far as her physical appearance, I would like to have Badger with a bit of a thickness to her. Particularly in the thighs and haunches, and a bit of a healthy paunch. I am absolutely not into the model-esque centerfold figure for my character. If this is a detriment to your interest, then we are probably not going to be very compatible. Cannibalism is common practice by raiders, as they do not have access to farmland or food stores. Waylaying travelers on known routes between the sparse outposts and towns is something they are notorious for, as they capture and enslave trade caravans and other travelers. Badger loves human meat and has been indulging a healthy appetite for many years. (She will also likely put on some extra weight as her pregnancy progresses.)
Badger would have sun-kissed skin but is naturally pale. She has bright blue eyes, and large full lips that are often contorted into either a sneer or scowl when she is not pouting at her Daddy to curry his favor. She sports long and disheveled blonde hair has been further bleached into a platinum tint by the unforgiving blaze of the wasteland sun. Though an oddity of genetics has her eyebrows of a considerably darker tint. Badger's attire will be a variety of scavenged straps and rags, arm-wraps, heavy gloves and boots, and other scrapped-together articles of junk for intimidating costumery and minor armor. But ultimately, she leaves herself dressed in a manner to provide easy access for Daddy's sexual appetite. She has small, perky breasts, not quite having filled out into full woman-hood. However, she possesses thick thighs and a weighty bottom-end. She flaunts her fat backside unabashedly, usually left bare and exposed for any and all to gaze upon (especially Daddy). Her body is riddled in scars both new and old that vary in their severity. These scars have been accumulated from a life of savage altercations with various wasteland monstrosities as well as hostile encounters with other humans. Here are some AI Generated images to give a general idea of what I have in mind for Badger's appearance.
I generated the following images using Stable Diffusion, an AI art program.
I have lots more renditions of Badger, but these are some choice pics that I particularly liked.
None of them should be considered to be a perfect representation of her.
But all of them can be culminated into the general idea of who I envisioned for my character.
Do feel free to mention any particular characteristics portrayed in any of the pics that you find particularly interesting or appealing.
A vicious, wasteland raider
An alluring companion
Daddy's cum-hungry, little girl
An expecting mother
Your Character: I don't want to get overly specific on the details of the father character. I want you to enjoy the character you play, so I want you to make him however you feel is most appropriate to this setting (Though you can totally check out my preferences by clicking on my sig). The one thing I will say is that I'd like him in the age range of early thirties to late forties. This is because I like that kind of age gap in my ageplay dynamics. It's a pretty flexible range of basically two decades. So I don't anticipate this to be a problem. I am also open to your character being a little older than this range if that tickles your fancy. The type of father he is to her is up for discussion, as well. Just keep in mind the overall setting and mood of a barbaric, postapocalyptic world of danger and violence.
I do not in any way need you to make your character in the following portrayal.
It is a mild suggestion at best, and is more of a generalized notion of the type of physical build I like in men,
as well as examples of the age range I'd like to pair up with Badger.
Generic Daddy bod
Kinks and Dynamics
The following are elements that I'd like to include in the roleplay.
They are a collection of plot drivers and elements I'd like to include in our characters' relationship dynamic.
Also included are some simple (but core) kinks and fetishes I'd like to include in the roleplay.
Anal: Butt sex is my all-time favorite sex act. When it cums to doing the nasty, up the ass is always on my radar. And No pulling out! Keep her pink pucker pressed against her Daddy's pelvis when he's ready to blow! Anal afficionados are gonna have a blast with this dynamic.
Pregnancy: In a previous iteration of this RP request, I had made Badger infertile. However, in this RP I'd like to explore the notion of her father actually impregnating her. I don't want to start her off pregnant, or even necessarilly jumping right into it. But it is definitely something I'd like to story to eventually hinge on. I'd also like the narrative to go passed just the act of breeding her and write about the resulting trials and tribulations of being pregnant in a dangerous, post-apocalyptic wasteland.
Ageplay: Yes, Badger will be underage. 16 years old would be best (as is allowable by site rules), but I can do 16 as well. I would like a considerable age difference between her and her father. With him being at least twice her age, and ideally in his early to mid 40s.
Sizeplay: I want Daddy to be much larger in frame than his little girl. He dwarfs her when they stand next to one another. And when it comes to intimate moments, he is almost too large for her to handle. It is always an endeavor to snug his ample-sized manhood into his little girl's cunt and asshole.
Chubby and rounded:As I mentioned before, as well as in my profile, I enjoy writing women of well-upholstered proportions. Some people like the skinny, swimsuit model look. And that's fine. I realize it is a thig that many people find attractive. But I'm not really into modelling my characters after such proportions. If you enjoy chubbier women with heavy backsides, then we might be a great match. All this of course, within reason and consideration to the post-apocalypse setting.
Big Shot: Did I mention a sizable girth and length to daddy's man-hood? Well, yes. He's more than well-endowed. Downright monstrous, even. With big, hairy swingers, too. Despite their regular sexual interludes, Badger always labors to accommodate his proportions. And that package delivers the man-milk in copious quantities!
Violence and Misadventure: Our characters are raiders, after all. They gotta live the life, waylaying traveling caravans and causing general havoc for more civilized denizens of the wasteland.
Loving and consensual: Despite being wasteland bandits that shoot first and eat you later, this Dad/Daughter pairing is one of love and cooperation. They WANT to be with each other. Badger doesn't need to tease and tempt and "corrupt" him. And Daddy doesn't need to rape or coerce her into sexual acts. They enjoy romantic moments, albeit "romance" might have different connotations in this world. But cuddling and snuggling and tender moments should definitely be highlights in their otherwise brutal lifestyle.
Rough Sex: Just because this Daddy/daughter couple are in love doesn't mean that their love making is all tender kisses. Quite the opposite. Badger fucks like a feral animal. Daddy pinning her down and plowing right in being a regular approach to their sexcapades, Badger is just as forward and aggressive. Her favorite approach is one where she mounts him, centering his cock head to her asshole, and drops her weight right down on his engorged ram-rod. Her aim would be to take him down to the hilt in a single, determined (albeit strenuous) stroke. And while it isn't something she regularly achieves, it's good to keep practicing.
Sodomy: Also known as Anal sex. I love it so much that I'm mentioning it twice.
Shameless Sexuality: While the more civilized folk have their notions of prudence, most raiders don't care a whole lot. However, even raiders regard Badger and her Dad's relationship as "too much" or "a little off". But Badger and her dad? The don't give a fuck! Many long nights have had their silence broken by the sounds of a young girl begging for Daddy's cum and moaning with orgasm once she receives it.
Butt-sex: Did I mention anal sex? I don't think I did. I LOVE anal sex!
Multi-paragraph: I am a multi-paragraph writer. With a prompt like this, I would think that would be intrinsic. But I'll state it nonetheless. I love detail and scene-setting. I strive to write with partners that do the same.
Narrative Violence: The wasteland is a hostile environment. Our characters are not benefactors of a functional society trying to rebuild. Whether on their own or with a larger group, they are violent raiders. While they do not bear malicious action to one-another, violence surrounds their lifestyle and should be embraced as a regular story element.
Post Rate: I'm a busy adult. I have work and a home life and lots of obligations that I have to fit this hobby around. I can realistically be expected to be able to post two or three times a week at most. I don't do immediate responses because I take my time to write out and revise my responses before I feel they are good enough to post.
And… I think that about covers everything. Check out my About Me or F-list (linked below) if you want to know about my kinks and fetishes in more detail. OR, y'know ... just ask me in a PM! If this prompt interests you, or if you have any questions about the roleplay setting or mood or would otherwise like to some of your own ideas mull around, please do not hesitate to reach out.
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1980's NYC Buddy Cop Urban Fantasy 🌇🗽🚓👹 (NSFW Refs Within)
On July 14, 1945 the U.S. Army conducted the Trinity test and detonated the first nuclear bomb in the New Mexican desert. At the same instant the weapon was ignited, a veil previously unrealized by humans, was shattered. Unbeknownst to humans, an entire world of other races had been existing amongst the populace. Creatures of myth and fantasy were alive and well, having been living their lives in community with humankind for countless centuries. Everything from elves, goblins, lycons, faun, fairies, trolls, ogres, and even dragons were now exposed as everyday citizens. Some were even prominent members of society. It is still largely unknown as to why the nuclear blast destroyed the veil. But in the decades that followed, humanity would learn to accept and adapt to the new faces they now shared the world with.
August 3rd,1985. Present Day New York City.
The city never sleeps, or so the saying goes. This is especially true of the goblin boroughs. Being nocturnal creatures, the large-eared denizens of New York spill out into the neon-lit streets like rats from a sewer once the sun set behind the metropolitan skyline. You don't see a whole lot of them during the day. Not above ground, at least. But there is a whole other city below the streets of New York that's positively crawlin' with these diminutive and green-skinned citizens.
Goblins are natural troublemakers, of course. They aren't as bad as the belligerent youths of the Troll variety. Troll gangs are a serious issue in some neighborhoods. But that's a whole other story. Goblins are a handful, an' that's the simple truth of it. A disorderly lot on a good day, and rampant wave of chaos at the worst. They're a people of immediate goals and simple pleasures, and they don't tend to follow the rules unless they're being watched over like a hawk. They didn't used to be such a problem, back in the day. But a baby boom in the early 60's saw the goblin population skyrocket. And in New York, they overran many of the boroughs that they had been nicely secluded in for generations.
As you can imagine, Goblins aren't the easiest people to be policed. The laws and policies put in place for more orderly-inclined citizens just don't pan out for goblins. The jails used to be packed full of the ornery punks, and all the while they were still being lined up in cuffs waiting to be booked. In response to this dilemma, the mayor worked out a special department. As of October of 82', New York City has had a special division of Wardens, police officers trained specifically to deal with the wild nature of goblin street-crime. Surprisingly, a decent number of goblins enrolled themselves into the academy with their hearts set on becoming Wardens. As it turned out, not all goblins are trouble-making little shits, after all.
It's been three years since the introduction of the Wardens into the police force. The biggest issue with integrating goblins into the ranks of law enforcement was that, despite the goblins now being officers themselves, they were still goblins. And thus, they still carried on with their cultural habits and premonitions. It took a special kind of Captain to deal with goblins in their precinct. And, amongst other things, goblins have a certain… Let's call it a care-free attitude about nudity.
To put it simply, underwear sales aren't particularly high for goblin consumers. And they tend to wear their clothes to ribbons before thinking about replacing them. Non-goblins often wonder why, with that kind of tendency, do goblins even bother with clothes at all?
NEWS FLASH: A lot of em' don't!
But you won't see a whole lot of stark-naked goblins unless you go below ground into their boroughs.
But I digress…
Needless to say, keeping a goblin Warden in uniform is a tough sell. But as long as they carry their badge and do their job, the Mayor is happy. And if the Mayor is happy, the Chief of Police is happy. But a Warden is still a cop at the end of the day, and New York ain't an easy city to be a cop in. It's a mad world out there in the concrete jungle of the Big Apple, with a whole lotta vicious animals just waiting to eat each other up!
Disclaimer:I have never been to NYC. All references are made from conjecture based on old movies, and various internet searches.
In this RP setting, I intend to play as a young female Goblin. She is a Warden and has been on the street for less than a year. Though she is past her "rookie" phase, she is by no means a hard-boiled veteran. The mood I'm going for is a sort of Neon-Noir/Buddy Cop feel, and your character will be her partner. Whether he is a veteran, a rookie, or just someone who got reassigned/put in for a transfer is totally up to you! I'm looking for a good deal of story in this RP, with the two cops going about an action-packed slice-of-life kinda thing. But that doesn't mean that raunchiness and lewd happenings shouldn't be a regular part of the story.
I am looking to have a classic Odd Couple trope, both in physical measure as well as personality. Goblins are small in stature, and chaotic and impulsive in nature. So, a nice contrast from your character would be ideal, and most definitely of a race other than Goblin. Speaking of ideals, I'd absolutely adore having a large-framed and monstrous male as her partner. Orcs, Minotaurs, Ogres, Trolls, Lycons (wolf-folk), etc. are all excellent examples of what I mean. I don't want to overly define what I'm looking for out of your character. However, the link in my sig will take you to my very detailed and elaborate F-list if you really wanna know what gets my motor going! You can also check out my About Me section on my profile.
From left to right: Troll, Swinian (pigfolk), Lycon, Lizardman, Orc, Taur (Minotaur)
But before you go clicking off somewhere, there are two major points that anyone and everyone that is interested in RPing with me should know:
First, the gals I roleplay as tend to be rather full-figured. Call them chubby, call them fat, call them voluptuous and curvaceous... just don't call them something you are going to have a problem with, and we are golden. To exemplify what I mean, here is a collection of AI generated art that gives examples of what my character for this RP would be looking like:
Work "Uniform"
Off-Duty
With this one being a particular favorite of mine:
STATS
Name: Julie-Tianna Ranamangia DOB: April 25, 1963 (22 years old) Zodiac: Taurus Sex: Female Height: 4' 7'' Weight: 126 lbs. Skin: Olive Green Hair: Light Brown (bleached blonde) Eyes: Yellow
Background:
Born in the Rockaway in Queens, Julie has an obvious Long Island accent to her speech. Though not of the more stereotypical urban scenery associated with New York, the Rockaway is not without its low-income and gang-troubled areas. As a young teen, Julie was involved in one such gang until three of her close friends were shot and killed by a rival group. She eventually made herself scarce from her former associates, moving to Brooklyn when she was nineteen. Julie quickly found a job as a stripper, dancing at a club near the DUMBO. At the suggestion of a friend, Julie eventually applied for acceptance to the NYC Police Academy. Six months after her admission, the young goblin graduated as a police officer. Due to her obvious racial lineage, Julie was fast-tracked as a Warden and was quickly put out on a beat around Prospect Park. She has since been out patrolling the streets and sub-terranean corridors of Goblin neighborhoods in Brooklyn for just over a year.
And secondly, I have a HUGE anal fetish. Everyone has their niche kinks. But I feel like the weight I put on this (otherwise not uncommon) sex category makes it a little niche. I'm not asking for exclusively anal sex acts when concerning smut (though I'm not opposed to a sexual theme of vaginal neglect if it tickles your fancy), but I do ask that anal sex acts to be a significant focus when the smut does come around.
There's no stuffing quite like a butt-stuffing! Creampies Mandatory!
Anyhow, I think I've expounded enough on this idea to give a pretty good idea of what I'm looking for. I can post a couple of times a week at an optimum. But patience is definitely something I both expect and extend to my writing partners when it comes to response time. I'm a multi-paragraph writer. Especially in my intro posts, I will hit 900 words +. My regular post length can vary anywhere between 300 to 600 (but these are very rough estimations). Really, post length isn't that important to me as the content of the aforementioned contribution. I'm big on descriptors and setting up the scene. I like to get intimate with character emotion and development. But I also love to get the narrative pumping with action scenes/violent incursions (not to mention other scenes involving a different kind of "pumping action").
In the distant East, across the Ebon Sea and over the precipitous ridges of the Dharayat Mountains, the Kingdom of Ahrammaria rises out of the desert sand. Planted within the region known as The Palm of Zalas, Ahrammaria is a land of shifting secrets and hidden enemies. Much like the Jayza Desert, the great expanse of roving dunes that stretch eastward from the kingdom, the people of Ahrammaria are enigmatic and abstruse, holding long memories and untold secrets. In this place, words are spoken with obscured meaning, and the culture of the realm being steeped in nuances and implication. The land itself is foreboding, offering seductive whispers of wealth and power only to instead deliver swift death to the foolish and unwary.
The Amir of the land, Hashad Zareb Ibn Taariq, rules over the arid kingdom from within his residence in the opulent city of Tamyr. The alabaster palace sits atop a hill at the edge of a savannah. The views from its minaret-capped towers take in the great spread of the kingdom's territories from all around. Wealth flows into Tamyr from the roads connecting caravans from the westerly kingdom of Haddan, as well as the various maritime trade routes that pass through the Port of Damasc. Spices, silks, and other exotic goods from the east all pass through Damasc. As these luxurious commodities make their way to other parts of the world, Ahrammaria has become gilded in the wealth its unique role in this international economy. The northern coast of Ahrammaria is spread over the Gulf of Jahannam, with the mountain range known as "The Northern Teeth" shielding most of the coastline from the rampant storms that travel down from the north. Regional tin mines within the region are paramount in the crafting of bronze weapons and armor. While a great deal of the forged equipment remains in Ahrammaria for the outfitting of its own soldiers, a percentage is allotted for trade with other nations.
Ahrammaria's military strength lies in its Navy. While it has an abundance of skilled warriors that know how to fight in the unforgiving climate of the desert against invaders, it is upon the ocean waves that Ahrammarian sailors have emblazoned their reputation as fierce tacticians. Merchant House vessels bearing affiliation to the kingdom are often given safeguard by Ahrammarian ships when traveling the Ebon Sea. Notoriously, pirates hailing from Ahrammaria are often regarded as swift and brutal marauders in foreign waters.
In the storied realm of Ahrammaria, assassins lurk in shadowy corridors, thieves infest the pathways of bustling bazaars, and bandits lay in wait by popular roadways to pounce upon unwary passersby. Even while legions of Ahrammari soldiers bolster the defenses of larger cities and outposts, warriors of various tribal affiliation are locked in ancient territorial disputes against one another since a time immemorial. For as sovereign as the land of Ahrammaria reigns on its bed of swirling sand, it is wrought in civil strife and sits on the precipice of upheaval.
Hello, and welcome to Ahrammaria! This is a personal worldbuild project of mine that I've been putting together for... Well, to be honest I'm not actually sure how long I've been working on it. But it all started from a map concept that I made three years ago. I have not been working on it for the entirety of those three years, mind you. It's been an on-and-off effort, and it has changed drastically from its original conceptualization. As you will find obvious, this fantasy setting takes more from the Arabian Peninsula, Egypt, and other such related inspiration rather than the more common European-styled medieval fantasy. However, the core inspiration for Ahrammaria is Sword and Sorcery settings like Conan the Barbarian (books, comics, movies), The Scorpion King movies, and Prince of Persia (movie - I've never played the games). However, you don't need to have watched or read any of those to get a grip on this setting, as I have outlined it in full for this request thread.
Unlike most of those aforementioned fandoms, there is a significant and acknowledged presence of non-human races in this world. But we'll get to that in a bit. For now, I hope I have gripped enough of your interest in this proposed setting to keep you reading. And if you make it to the end and feel like this setting could be something we could craft an erotic misadventure in, please do not hesitate to send me a Personal Message. If it helps to get to know me better before you commit to reaching out, I have my on-site About Me, and my off-site F-list linked in my signature.
The above map is my own creation, made using the Inkarnate Mapmaking program.
Through their site's subscription policies, I am the owner of this intellectual property.
I do not authorize its replication or use outside of creative works made in conjunction with this roleplay request.
Humans are not the only sapient creatures in Ahrammaria. There are three other recognized races of intelligent creatures that also inhabit the land. Though even combined, they are but a fraction of the population of the humans. They exist in the region, nonetheless, and do their best to cling to their spaces amid the desert realm. Most of their communities find themselves in the outskirts of cities or in isolated boroughs, as they are not readily welcomed or treated with fairness by most of the human presence in Ahrammaria. A significant presence of these races exists as slaves or have been branded as criminals, furthering the deeply rooted stigmas held against them.
Primarily found in the centrally located territories of Mez Kabal, the Khanzir are a people of bellicose disposition. They settled the Palm of Zalas long before the Amirs sought to make it their kingdom, migrating up from the lands southwest of the region. They are "pig-faced" humanoids with large tusks and short-tempers. They often sport large manes of course hair, with skin and hair tones in a variety of brown colorations. They are typically of stout build, being portly and well-muscled but otherwise being quite similar to human sizing.
Khanzir are omnivorous, but their diet only rarely includes meats, and such indulgences are usually reserved for celebratory occasions. Khanzir develop into maturity at much the same rate as humans but have been noted to live a bit longer into old age. Elder Khanzir are regularly observed in being a century old.
Though they have a centralized village, the Khanzir's main population functions more as a loose collection of tribes that inhabit the area. Mez Kabal itself is a large oasis, with the surrounding buttes and mesas harboring small cave systems and underground pools. The tribal shamans of the Khanzir are unique in the world for their production of a chalky psychoactive compound known as Gloaming Powder. The blue powder's creation is a heavily guarded secret that only a few shamans of the Khanzir truly understand. This knowledge traditionally is only passed down to a single apprentice. Gloaming Powder can be mixed into an herbal tea, and ceremonially drunk during a waxing moon in order to be temporarily bestowed with visions of the future. The visions are difficult to decipher, and oftentimes the aftereffects of Gloaming Powder will render those who drink it with a lasting madness. The Khanzir tribal chiefs sparingly trade the powder and other desert valuables to the Amir in the form of tithes in order to be left in sanctity within their home of Mez Kabal.
Thabat
View attachment 43238The Thabat are indigenous race of serpentine humanoids, possessing scaled skin with humanoid forearms and torsos, but having a serpentine head and lower half of their body ending in a long tail. Thier kind are extremely rare, and many Ahrammarians do not even believe they exist anymore. It is difficult to distinguish myth from fact when discussing the Thabat, because their race and history is clouded in mystery and misinterpretation. What is known, is that they are quite solitary, and have very, very long lives. A venerated Thabat can easily see seven or eight generations of humans from birth to death in the span of their own lifetime.
The Thabat are believed to have once had their own mighty empire, with the capitol seated in what isnow regarded as the Palm of Zalas region. According to this theory, some of the oldest ruins might be the last remnants of their forgotten legacy. However, there are only questionable records to suggest any truth to this premise as the ruins themselves are bereft of any indication as to their ancient builders.
Another mystery that surrounds the Thabat, is their proclivity for magik. It is unknown whether all Thabat possess magik, or if it is only that those that have been recorded in historic chronicle have all been particularly adept sorcerers. Regardless, there is a certain awe that embodies these creatures of legend, and those that have ever met a Thabat will likely never forget the encounter.
A race of slaves, the Althor have been a cornerstone to the building of Ahrammaria's wealth and prosperity. By no means are the bull-figured Althor the only slaves in Ahrammaria, but their race's presence in the region seems almost exclusive to the role. Originally brought in by slavers from the Western Isles of Cretania, the Althor were eventually bred within Ahrammaria for the purpose of hard labor and other drudgery. in Ahrammaria, they are regarded either as property, or as escaped slaves and therefore criminals. For this reason, most free Althor find their only solace in the desert kingdom among outlaws.
Althor are shorter-lived than humans, growing quickly into adolescence and reaching their middling age in about two decades. An elder might hope to see fifty years before expiring of natural causes. Though they live shorter lives, the Althor live that much more passionately. Bravery, loyalty, and virility are traits commonly observed in Althor that are unfettered by the yoke and chain. They have large families and oftentimes have many mates, a tradition that has been levied to supply an ample number of laborers for the Ahrammarian Kingdom.
Magik is not rampantly available in this world. Ahrammaria is a Sword and Sorcery setting, and magic here is both rare and usually very ritualistic. Objects of power and pacts with demonic entities are often (but not always) at the root of a sorcerer's ability. Even the smallest spell must be meditated upon and often requires the use of many components. Very few people have the psychological fortitude to wield magic, and the study of that power is something to be undertaken only by those that would devote their lives to its pursuit. Sorcerers are feared and infamous for their powers. Often, they are cult leaders or tyrannical despots that abuse their powers. Less sociopathic practitioners might otherwise relegate to a hermetic lifestyle away from others to hone their witchcraft. The most common of the latter are the Shaman of the Khanzir people.
Regardless of what path a sorcerer might take; their kind are extremely rare and sought after only with great trepidation. The Amir himself has a powerful sorcerer in his court, an enigmatic and sinister-looking man known only as Solomon the Black. His name is carefully whispered by those that dare mention him at all, and his mention is outright refused to be spoken aloud by many more.
Magik is fickle and costly, often coming at great price to its practitioner or requiring great sacrifice. Many dark and terrible stigmas surround those that practice the arts. Acolytes and adepts of magik must be patient, for it is not a thing that comes at a whim or without effort. But for those that can pay its price and indulge its study, magik can be a frightful and powerful tool.
The technology level in Ahrammaria is roughly bronze age. An influx of goods from more advanced regions has recently become commonplace in the markets, as well as traded from outlander caravans. Therefore, weapons of iron and steel are present to those who can afford to purchase them from traders of exotic goods. No region of the outside world is more developed than the iron age. Though, Black Powder does exist as an extremely rare commodity that is occasionally imported from the far east regions of the world (colloquially referred to as The Orient). It has not yet been weaponized into firearms but can be packed into hard casings with an implanted fuse in order to fashion a crude explosive.
Because of the extreme desert heat, heavy armor is not only impractical to wear, but potentially perilous to one's health. Only in the precipice of war do soldiers don heavy armors, and even those metal pieces are often just chest plates, helmets and leg guards. Most common armor is consisted of hardened leather. Sometimes with metal plates or studs affixed to it for added deflection.
The land of Ahrammaria is one of many faiths. Few are completely areligious in this realm, and even the most low-borne and ignorant criminal holds some form of acknowledgement to the gods at large. Shrines can be found in just about any place of significant gathering, and even traveling caravans have makeshift altars to which they pray and meditate upon during their travels. Though there are likely many more obscure religions and faiths in the mix of the Ahrammari peoples, the main religions are as follows:
Izalad
This is the foremost faith in Ahrammaria. Izalad is endorsed by the Amir as the official religion of the kingdom, and the rulership is closely tied in with the dogmatic doctrine. Izalad is a monotheistic belief in the god Zalas as the omniscient deity that created the sea, land, and heavens in a time immemorial. Followers of Izalad are called Izalim. Their doctrines preach of peace offered to others, and practices of discipline in both physical and spiritual hygiene. Izalad is very ritualistic, and very traditional. This is reflected in the general mood of the people of Ahrammaria. Gender roles are prevalent and even lawfully enforced, though the social expectations in most of the kingdom's societies usually do well to sustain these dogmas of their own accord. Prayer to the sun is offered three times a day, as Zalas is synonymous with the Light of Heaven.
Eternal Life is granted in death to those that uphold the tenets of Izalad and uphold the teachings of the prophets:
Actions are judged by their intent
Zalas only accepts the pure of heart and soul into eternity
Do not involve yourself in what does not concern you
Love for your brother what you love for yourself
One should not harm themselves or others
Do not focus on amassing material possessions
Shajiri
Followers of Shajiri, are simply known as the Shajir. The religion of Shajiri believes in a trinity of creator gods. They are Rashad, Jidam, and Makala. They rule creation in the separate domains of the Heaven, Aerth, and Sea. In the Shajiri dogma, a fourth deity known as Yamahr rules the Narakana, a place of eternal pain and suffering.
Rashad rules the heavens, Varghamma, and passes judgement on the souls of the deceased. Those who have led lives of benevolence and charity are admitted into the realm of paradise. Other souls are turned away and either go to the Sea or to Narakana.
Jidam rules the realm of Aerth, the plane of mortals. He is in charge of enacting justice and keeping balance in the world. He also keeps tally of the rights and wrongs that are committed by the followers of Shajiri. He ushers the souls of the dead up to Rashad.
Makala is a goddess of the sea and its mysterious depths. All lost souls who do not ascend into the heavens but are not wicked enough to be sent to Narakana instead go into the deep darkness of the sea to be cradled by Makala.
The Surthas are the four goals or aims of enlightened life in the Shajir religion. It is thought that a good life requires pursuit of all four aims, though individuals may have special talents in one of the Surthas. They include:
Harmana: the ethical, duty-driven manner of living in cooperation with one's fellow living beings. This path includes a comprehensive set of rules for the "right way of living."
Algarra: the pursuit of material prosperity through constructive work. For the Shajir, Algarra includes not only traditional work for daily sustenance but also the work of government and civic service.
Komalla: the pursuit of pleasure and happiness through the exercise of desire and passion. In some traditions, this bears the connotation of hedonistic pleasures but is also regarded as one facet of a well-rounded spiritual life.
Sabra: the pursuit of spiritual liberation and salvation. This is the area of scholarly study and meditation, as well as devotion to mystic arts.
The Cult of Apis
This religion is practiced almost exclusively by the Althor. They worship the avatar Apis, a bull-god who hundreds of thousands of years ago came down from his golden temple amid the heavens and created the Althor people in his image. The Althor do not deny the existence of other gods but believe that Apis is exclusively the god that their people owe fealty.
Appeasing Apis is the focal point of this faith, and followers of the cult are constantly taking action in the name of Apis or otherwise making regular sacrifices to altars. Tithing is also a common thing, and wealthy Althor in lands outside Ahrammaria often have elaborate shrines to their Bull-God in their homes and place of business. Althor warriors will often proclaim victories for their patron god, and even fighters in arena pits will pray to Apis before a fight and recite a maxim or adage from the Apisian teachings upon victory.
The dogma of the Cult of Apis states that Apis will take up all his children to his realm when they die. But their place in his eternal kingdom is determined by the favor they incurred during their life. Only children who died early are pardoned from this scale and are believed to be reborn in a new life to have another chance at proving themselves.
Morlochian
This religion is primarily observed by the Khanzir people. Though, in recent decades it has begun to influence many human followers. Morlochian dogma does not uphold any gods, but rather that everything in creation possesses an inherent spirit. In an ancient age, a Khanzian by the name of Morloch was a great teacher of this philosophy. These notions became central to Khanzian culture, and Morloch's teachings are spread through the Morlochian faith. There is no realm of eternal paradise or suffering in the Morlochian religion. Instead, the spirit of the deceased passes into a new form when it dies via reincarnation. What that form is, depends on how honorable a life was lived in its previous incarnation. One who lived a dishonorable life risk coming back in lesser form, such as a goat, or cat, or even an insect if their transgressions were terrible enough. Khanzir believe that their race is a superior form to the other sapient races of the world. Therefore, according to their dogma, they could possibly come back as a human or other intelligent race of the world.
For the Khanzir, an honorable life consists of winning just battles and protecting one's family and clan. Raiding and pillaging are not seen as misdeeds unless they are done to other Khanzir and in an unfair method. The killing of lesser forms (i.e. other races and animals) is not dishonorable, as long as the death was with purpose. Killing of an animal for food or ritual is perfectly fine. But killing the same creature purely for sport is not regarded as an honorable action. Robbing and even killing trespassers in Khanzir territory is not only acceptable by Morlochian standards, it is praised as an act of protection to their people.
Taking slaves is also acceptable action, as many Khanzir chieftains and warriors have many slaves in their hold as both a mark of status and wealth. That being said, slaves are as much a responsibility as they are a luxury. Morlochian dogma would require that the slaves be kept in good health and not be mistreated unless they are disobedient.
Sha-Maal
In the religion of Sha-Maal, the followers believe in the Goddess Shamaran. She is the divine Aerth mother that birthed all life in the world. Shamaran is a giant half-woman, half-snake. Thabat were the main worshippers of this religion. However, the influence spread to other races, manifesting as small, secretive cults. Shamaran is often depicted as encircling the world with her lower, snake-half. Shamaran's love is unending for her followers, and they are all welcomed to her bosom upon death regardless of how they lived life. The only thing she asks of her people is that they make regular blood sacrifices to her. These sacrifices are violent and usually involve an unwilling captive as the sacrifice. For this reason, followers of Sha-Maal are not public about their faith. In many places, they are even persecuted. Ahrammaria is one of those places. As such, the temples and meeting places of Sha-Maal rites and rituals are kept secret.
Because the Sha-Maal religion is so secretive, much of its practices and traditions are unknown. In fact, most practitioners exist in small, provincial sects, with each having their own customs and rituals that may not be recognized to the other organizations of Sha-Maal.
The politics of rulership and governmental affairs of Ahrammariah are not the essence of this tale. This is not a chronicle of sheiks and courts, nor is it an account of the rival clans of the land and their turmoil. Nor is this a tale of mighty armies at war. This is the story of free spirits, tossed into their fates like windswept sand. Borne from the wilds and slums and hardships of the desert kingdom, they would walk their course in an impassioned chronicle, branding their legend into the proverbial flesh of Ahrammaria's history.
Zabel Al-Khajar: Raven-haired, and with eyes like green Jasper.
When she was but a girl, Zabel was captured and taken from her people, the Jassa tribe. The slavers eventually headed northerly, to the markets of the trade city of Khoer, so that the girl could be sold along with the other captives they had been gathering. By her cunning, strength, and tenacity, however, Zabel was able to free herself from a future as a child-slave. She fled into the desert, nearly meeting her end in the harsh Ahrammarian climate. However, fate would cross her path with a notorious gang of desert raiders, and her life thread would be woven into theirs.
They called themselves the Aza-Hamar, the Red Talons, reavers that rode as a plague upon the provinces of the realm and preyed upon the weak and unwary. Their reputation was nothing if not one of malefaction. The bandits brought Zabel to their nomadic encampment, where her weak form was presented to their leader, Hadid Al-kaib.
Impressed with the young girl's tenacity, Hadid had Zabel weaned back to health and gave her an opportunity to prove herself amongst his lot. For the next several years, Zabel grew her skills and barbarity in the company of the Red Talons. While she already had the affinity of desert survivalism from her own people, Zabel honed her skills as a thief and murderer amongst her savage peers.
Height: 5'4" / 163 cm Weight: 165 lbs / 75 kg Build: Endomorphic
B/W/H
- Bust: 42 in / 106 cm - Waist: 32 in / 82 cm - Hips: 45 in / 114 cm
Hair: Black Eyes: Green
Over time, she raised herself to a seat of prominence in the group, though she incurred several injuries and wounds along her path as a desert bandit. Her violent misdeeds gained Zabel renown and prestige in the gang, and her uncommon beauty was always welcome sight to the haggard bandits. Such was her skill and allure, that it even became rumored that Zabel was one of Hadid's privileged concubines.
The Red Talons had claimed great success and notoriety as they rode back and forth across the sands of Ahrammaria and into local legend. The band of villains had pillaged and raped and murdered to their blackened hearts' content for many years before Zabel had come to know them. Amid their company, Zabel also shared in their villainous glory under Hadid's watch.
However, that era would inevitably come to a violent close...
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
In the Empyrean High,
Moon and Star in the Sky.
Which body gives chase,
Which one moves in flight?
And which one are You,
And which one am I?
~ View attachment 43095 Counterpart to Zabel, a man distinguished amid the barbarous throng of the Aza-Hamar.
His destiny is one entwined with hers as events serendipitous, tragic, and violent unfold upon their conjoined journey.
But who is he? From where did he hail? What are his aims, his motivations?
And what will eventually become of him in this Ahrammarian tale?
~ ~ ~
This is the part where you take it upon yourself to draw up a character to pair alongside Zabel. The above picture is purely for flavor of the RT and need not be the metric by which you make his physique. However, if the FC has struck a chord of approval with you, by all means free to use it for your character reference in this roleplay with me. If you would rather seek out a face claim of your own, that is perfectly fine and expected. However, there are some parameters that I would very much like to have indulged when it comes to the Male lead in this story.
For starters, I would require him to be an older male when compared to Zabel. She is a young woman, possibly at the late edge of her adolescence or just coming out of it. Her history is nebulously written so that she could be aged anywhere from 16 to her very early 20s (as per your comfort and preference). To contrast her nubile iteration, I would request that your character be a man in his late 30's to mid 40's.
Rugged and masculine is my second requisite, as it is both befitting of the setting and story, as well as simply being the "type" of man that I, personally, find attractive. Zabel, though vicious and deadly in her own right, is relatively short in stature. I would prefer that your character outsize her in a notable magnitude, both in a general physical sense, as well as in matters of a more coital nature.
As there are non-human races present in this setting, I am also very open to you RPing as either a Khanzir or Althor male, as well. Aesthetically, the Khanzir are like pig-faced Orcs in more human-flesh-tone (not green) color, and the Althor are a minotaur-like race of bovid humanoids. If you cannot find a faceclaim you like for either of these races, I am more than happy to conjure one up for you via Ai Generation.
The bandit king's corpse lay stiff and cold on a feast hall table, his head nowhere to be seen. Around the mauled cadaver, the remnant of the Red Talons cavorted and indulged in the carnal delights and hedonistic pleasures that only the city of Kalhadaar could provide. And of all the service houses in Kalhadaar, the ones run by the fat merchant Sozar were known to be the most epicurean in their ministries. They attracted the most low-borne and sordid of characters and were utterly booming in economic prosperity.
A feast was being held in Hadid's "honor". Both allies and rivals of the dark-hearted man sang drunken songs of his misdeeds, often boasting of their own deplorable acts in the same breath. Whores and grog were both served up in great abundance in the den of debauchery, and the district would be filled with their raucous cacophony late into the night.
However, the Red Talons were splintered with their leader's death. Despite the festivities, the once well-organized mob had already started to break down into conspiring gaggles of ambitious thugs. Many aspired to replace Hadid as leader of the Red Talons, but few had the capacity for it. As word of Hadid's death spread across the land, other gangs would surely seek to fill the vacuum of power left by the infamous marauder. So, as the fire lights of Kalhadaar burned and flickered in the warm night air, so too did the power-hungry eyes of motivated villains.
To further grow conniving whispers and conspiring murmurs, was the rumor of Hadid's map. Though the Aza-Hamar had amassed a great wealth of their own, that trove had quickly been looted and divided up as soon as word of Hadid's death had reached their sanctum in the desert. However, and bandit with a moment's wit to them would know to hole away their own personal cache of treasures. Nearly every member of the Red Talons had their hidden spaces somewhere in Ahrammaria, their own personal stash of plunder. Why would Hadid be any different? The difference between the bandit king and the rest of the Red Talons was that, for nearly a decade, Hadid had claimed the choicest jewels, the finest weapons, and the most mysterious artifacts that the marauders had acquired for himself. The most coveted of those items were not in the midst of Hadid's lock boxes. Nor were they found anywhere among his personal affects or living spaces. Hadid, like any good bandit, had hidden them far and away from his band of thieves.
What the rest of the Aza-Hamar did not know, was that Zabel had been more than one of Hadid's concubines. He had grown to place greater trust in her than any of the other women in his harem. In many ways, Hadid placed more confidence in Zabel than he did in his own Captains. When the two would lay together in those late nights, away from the raucous and plebian crowd of their peers, Hadid would whisper his aspirations and woes in Zabel's ear. She was than a reaver, more than an odalisque. Zabel had been for Hadid what could almost have passed as a lover.
However, the pair were practical, never making their closeness a public spectacle. They both knew that to flaunt their relationship was to invite jealousy and colluding from the rest of the Aza-Hamar. So, when Hadid lay cold and dead in the feasting hall, Zabel kept her eyes dry and her chin up. And while the remnant of the Red Talons cavorted and caroused, the bandit girl kept a very particular parchment that many of her former brothers-in-crime might readily kill her to possess.
For Zabel was in possession of Hadid's fabled map.
If you haven't surmised it from all the background lore, this RP is intended to be VERY story heavy. I don't bother with ratios because, well.... what are those ratios even based off of? Is anyone actually crunching the numbers and mathing out their story-to-smut balance? Let's play it by ear and write what the story becomes, instead of a preconceived concept of just how much sex should be involved.
I am a multi-paragraph writer. Generally, I aim for posts somewhere in the 300-to-600-word range. But I have been known to go over 1000 for the right kind of scene. That being said, roleplaying shouldn't be about word count as it should be about substance and delivering a fun and meaningful narrative. I seek writing partners that share the same enthusiasm for detailed and descriptive posts, character creation and development, and worldbuilding.
Concerning that last element, I realize that Ahrammaria is my own personal worldbuild project. It is an idea I have been working on as a solo project outside of BMR and online roleplaying as a whole. But I would very much like to share it with you as a setting for some erotic tales of misadventure. Please do not be intimidated by the scope of detail, and realize that not all the spaces are filled-in to a T. Many of the locations are only superficially defined with my concepts and ideas, and I have yet to completely flesh it all out. So, for the purpose of this RP, we can define things as we need them for whatever story we weave together.
I do not post every day. I wish I could, but irl does not give me the same portions of free time to commit to my hobbies as it once did. I TRY to post two, maybe three, times a week. "TRY" being the key word. But what I lack in availability, I make up in content. At least, that's what I like to tell myself. Haha
I would like to post this Roleplay in the Threads. It's been quite a long time since I've done anything in the threads, and I actually prefer threads to PMs. Personal Messages act as a great place for plotting, though. So, we can discuss what we are planning for upcoming scenes in a dedicated PM.
Here are some leading, erotic elements that I would very much like included in this RP. There can be more included, if it jives well with the narrative and mood of the story.
But these are my basics:
Anal: ♫ Face Down, Ass Up!
Stick that Cock into my Butt! ♪
Anal is hands down my absolute favorite sex act. If you're not an anal enthusiast and would only be obliging me this naughty narrative as a quid pro quo, then I'd rather wait around for someone who desires and is excited about Anal Sex ERP, rather than have you indulge me more as an exchange.
Dirty Anal Creampies
(completely optional and not at all required, but I'll make quick mention of it just in case someone out there happens to want to write this with me)
Body/Fat Worship (receiving):
Zabel is a bit of a curvy gal. See her stats and overall physical examples in the spoiler within the ZABEL AL-KHAJAR tab. Connoisseurs of the P L U M P female form need only apply.
Creampies:
I mean, this is probably pretty standard in ERP. But it is bulleted regardless. NO PULLING OUT!
Filth:
Musk, sweat, unwashed, etc. Realistic states of cleanliness for being nomadic desert bandits. Culturally, the (human) people of Ahrammaria are decently hygienic, especially the Izalim. However, that is a generality, and not everyone has access to regular baths.
Masculine Males:
Tall, Muscular, Bearded, Broad-chested, Body hair, etc.
Older Males:
Racial ageing equivalent of mid-30s to 50's.
Non-Human: (This is completely OPTIONAL, as I am just as happy with YC being human)
Males of the Khanzir (Pig-Orc) or Althor(Minotaur) variety
Exotic Penises: To go with the Althor, specifically: Their genitalia is NOT shaped like a traditional human phallus and is instead more equine.
Non-Consent: (Also completely optional)
This has less to do with our characters between themselves, and more to do with the theme at large. Considering the reputation of the Red Talons bandit group, scenes of rape committed onto peripheral or background characters could be a common sight/action.
Elements that have absolutely no place in this roleplay are:
Anime-Styled References:
The simplest and most polite way I can put this, is to simply state that I'm not a fan of the artistic stylization. Lots of people have preferences about drawn refs, irl pics, AI artwork, etc. So, it shouldn't be a stretch to respect my wishes to exclude anime-styled references from my roleplays.
Breeding/Impregnation/Lactation:
There are times when I seek roleplay scenarios that include impregnation of one sort or another. This is not one of those roleplays.
Cliché Dom/Sub, Master/Slave Dynamics
I blame 50 Shades of Grey for essentially popularizing the BDSM dynamic in all its mundane stereotype and yawn-worthy grandeur to the normies. I'm not particularly into any specific facet of BDSM, but power dynamics exist naturally between any two persons (or in this case, characters) regardless of what kind of label you want to slap on the relationship. Our characters can definitely have a range of traits. Some traits might be submissive or dominant in nature. But let's try to avoid boxing our characters into preconceived and cliche roles like Dom, and Sub.
Hypnosis/Mind Control/Corruption:
This type of story mechanic has always come off as a cheap alternative to actually developing motive and realism to character actions. I'm sure that corruption scenarios have been written in ways that are amazing and comprehensive. But most of the time, these scenes come off as forced shortcuts to get an "unwilling" character to "obey", and I'm not really into that kinda thing.
Futanaris/Dickgirls, Cuntboys:
Call me a traditionalist, but I like my men with penises and without breasts. If that's your thing, more power to you. I wish you all the best in your own roleplays that include them. But this is MY request, and a hard line in the sand has been drawn that excludes these types of characters.
Furries/Anthros:
Wolf-boys and Cat-girls will have to find another home, sorry. I have included some non-human races as part of my Ahrammarian lore. Some might even argue that they are, in fact, furries and/or anthros. Let me explain exactly the type of Furry/Anthro that I mean to exclude. This (1), and this (2), and this (3), are all the types of furries/anthros that I am absolutely NOT interested in.
However, if the depiction is more along the lines of this (4), or this (5), or this (6), then that's actually quite fine by me.
It's essentially the toony, "softer" rendition that puts me off, I suppose. They are anthropomorphic animals. Make them look like animals!
That being said, I have included 3 non-human races to the setting. If you do not wish to be human, I would be more than happy for you to RP as a Khanzir or Althor character.
Cervical/Nipple Penetration:
I'm sorry but I find this both egregiously unrealistic and totally not sexy. I'm not sure when cervical penetration got depicted as hot and sexy, but I sure do blame hentai for it. Clearly thought up by an incel that would have no idea how inconceivably painful it would be for a woman's cervix to just be jammed open like that, cervical penetration would just be a brutality committed onto a female. I don't think I need to get into the nipple penetration, do I?
Hyper Sizes:
Despite this being a setting of fantasy, and with varying races of different proportions and sizes, let's keep to at least a modicum of realism in that a character's penis won't be on par with the size of his thigh. Realistic proportions, please.
Unwanted Filth:
While there are certain "dirty" elements that I like in erotic scenes, that does not mean that I am open to everything filthy.
I'm not particularly into ass-to-mouth, smegma, soiling, or vomiting. This isn't a comprehensive list by any means. But I think that covers some of the more obvious things that might be assumed to be included into the Filth category that I don't care to indulge in.
Unwanted Body-Types:
I'm not particularly fond of the clean-cut modelesque GQ-Magazine physique in men. While I love a masculine bod, I find that when men are too preened and primped and manscaped, it's actually a bit of a turn off. Juxtaposed to that, I also do not enjoy RPing as a female character with a sporty, svelte, barbie e-girl presentation.
All artwork in this request thread (with the exception of the regional map) were initially made via Ai Generation.
An insistent alarm called out from the Operations Room of the MCS Tartarus. Within minutes, various crew scrambled into the suite as they had left their current tasks as abruptly as safety would allow. The ship's Warrant Officer took center seat, being the highest in rank amongst the group that had bumbled in. The rest hung and hovered around her, anxious to see what the alarm had been about. The main monitor blinked a neon notification in the center of its display: PERIMITER BREACH
"Control, bring up the breach site.", the WO commanded the ship's computer.
As soon as the words had left the officer's mouth, the monitor blinked to a live display of Camera 07. At the far northwestern edge of the site perimeter, the camera fixed onto a small bipedal figure making labored progression towards the site center. A tracking icon was overlayed on the display, just in case the only moving object on the screen wasn't obvious enough.
"Control, magnify to two meters", the WO instructed again.
The image blipped and refreshed to show the trespasser on the screen in much higher detail. All at once, the crew gasped or stood back in disbelief. The figure was a young female, a human. She was seemingly in her mid to late teens. Her attire could vaguely be made out to be a blue jumpsuit, tattered and torn, hanging off her body and exposing more flesh than it covered. What was more, is that the young female was touting a large, and very pregnant belly.
"That's a Daedalus uniform...", one of the crewmates behind the Warrant Officer muttered out loud.
"Identify the target." the WO and all the crew read each letter as it scrolled across the screen, identifying the girl at the perimeter.
> Natalia M. Beringer
> Adolescent Female
> Crewmember 034 of the MCS Daedalus
> Junior Engineering Technician
There were three mining operations on the planet CADUS 5M4, each one operated and monitored by a central starship from the Martian Confederacy:
The MCS Tartarus, MCS Daedalus, and MCS Icarus.
Each ship was occupied by a crew numbering between 32 to 44 individuals, depending on which ship was in question. The operations were mostly automated, and the crew of all three ships were comprised mostly of engineers and pilots and heavy machine operators. The mines all but ran themselves with labor drones and Ai-guided drilling rigs.
1,127 hours ago, the Daedalus had reported an incident where a small group of their crew had gone missing. They had been dispatched to investigate a cave system in Site 9 that had been excavated during the course of digging out a new seam of Iridium. Only one of the crewmen dispatched had returned, and with grievous injuries. After making an incoherent report proclaiming something had been hunting them in the cave system, he died of his injuries 6 hours after being admitted to med bay. A subsequent rescue party had been sent in to recover the other crewmates, but the cave entrance had been found to be collapsed and the surrounding tunnels dangerously unstable. An APB had been sent out to the Tartarus and Icarus with an update to the situation and regional hazard. After several days, the crew were considered dead, as even the most optimal scenario of supplies and environmental factors eventually calculated to a fatality, and the incident was considered closed.
Natalia had been one of the crew that had disappeared in the initial investigation. She should not have been alive. It was not only improbable; it was impossible. Over a month and a half (Terran Time) had transpired since she had been lost with the rest of her expedition. What's more, Site 9 was well over 200 kilometers away from the Daedalus' perimeter. Zooming back out, Natalia's tracks traced back into the unknown north, with no trace of transportation in sight. How had she made it all that way on foot? Without food, without water, and without any proper respiratory gear. None of this made sense.
The Warrant Officer looked around at the rest of the crew, they all stared in silence, wondering the same set of questions as the figure in the screen made stumbling headway toward the distant base.
"H-how...?" one of the techs sputtered.
"Doesn't matter." the WO barked suddenly. "Get some gear on a transport, take a full med kit and Dr. Hower out there. Pick her up and get her in quarantine."
"Gallager!", the WO turned to face another of the crew next to her.
"Yes'm", he awaited her command.
"Prep quarantine...", she stated the obvious, and the man walked out of the room with new purpose.
The whole situation was surreal. Impossible. Just the fact that she was out there, and breathing was a miracle. CADUS wasn't a toxic planet, but the atmosphere was so thin that survivability without a proper Respiratory Rig was about 10 minutes before you passed out and died of asphyxiation. The WO stayed behind in the Operations Room as the rest of the crew jumped to her orders.
Where had this girl been?
Hey there!
Thanks for taking the time to read my little prompt. This RP will be a retrospective chronicle of Natalie retelling her story, taking place in third person past tense, and starting from when her team has been attacked inside the cave system. My role in this will be the young female, Natalie. She is aged somewhere in her late teens. Ideally, I'd like her as 16, but I am willing to go to 19 if that's more your comfort zone. This RP will center greatly on her becoming captured by a bestial alien creature, routinely bred until she becomes pregnant, and then eventually escaping its burrow.
I'd like her to undergo certain transformative traits as she becomes pregnant, the process altering her DNA so that she can manage to survive the hostile planet's atmosphere as well as make the inhumanly long trek to the Daedalus and to her rescue. I would also like to RP a bit of sci-fi horror as she takes the pregnancy to term and gives live birth to an aberrant and vicious monstrosity set on killing the crew. We can discuss what roles you'd be comfortable undertaking, but ideally, I'd like to find someone who would RP as the breeding alien. the role of the cross-bred offspring could be RP'd by either of us as it rips and tears through the crew, and i would recommend that you take a part as a protagonist character in the present on board the Daedalus.
Kinks I'd want expounded on for this RP would be:
AGEPLAY: Not so much about their age difference, but more about her adolescent state of physicality. 16 - 19 years old is my range for Natalie.
SIZE DIFFERENCE: With the alien creature being quite larger than Natalie. If it's big and hulking, all the better.
BONDAGE/RESTRAINED: Not so much in the whips & chains BDSM derivative, but more of a pinned in place so she can't get away while she gets inseminated.
NON-CON: This isn't a situation that Natalie is enjoying
IMPREGNATION: Obviously
RAPID DEVELOPEMENT: Because Alien genetics! The full gestation cycle takes weeks, not months.
BODY HORROR: Being forcibly bred by a grotesque and wholly inhuman creature, and realizing that she is, in fact, pregnant with its offspring.
ANAL: I know it's not the baby-making hole. But a good "Butt-breeding" by the alien creature would be much appreciated. Maybe it can't tell the difference, or maybe it doesn't care and is just thrusting into wherever it fits.
EXOTIC PENIS AND CUM: I mean, it's an alien, let's get a little creative here. Not looking for the "tentacle cock" cliche, sorry.
LIVE BIRTH: I'm actually quite the oviposition enthusiast. But for this RP, I feel like a live birth is way more horrific and traumatizing.
As far as my hard NO's for this RP, they are:
NO GODDAMN ANIME!: This is pretty much a rule across the board with anything and everything I write. Leave the anime-styled refs at the door.
ANTHROS: Just, no.
FUTAS: Big, blaring, neon-lit NO!
MAMMALIAN: I'd rather the aliens be insectoid, reptilian, musculoid, or some other derivative that is far separated from the mammalian trait. This makes it more foreign to the human body, and thus more alien in nature. Even better if it isn't easy to categorize into any particular classification.
This RP will take place in the THREADS. PMs can be used for OOC communication.
I am a multi-paragraph styled writer, and I can be expected to reply two or three times a week.
I love detail, scene-setting, and post content. I look for other writers that can reciprocate in kind.
If you are interested, send me a PM with a general concept of whatever alien creature you would be interested in RPing in this setting. Reference pics are appreciated but not required. Also please let me know what of your own kinks you'd like to include into this. Would you also be interested in RPing as a crewman aboard the Daedalus?
For more information about me and my kinky interests, follow the links in my signature to my ABOUT ME as well as my F-LIST.
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If you are here because of a link however, thank you for taking interest in the respective thread or PM that led you to this place. 
Anal Creampies