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ClockworkCadence
Planetoid
- Joined
- Aug 8, 2017
Hello there, lovely to meet you! Call me Cadence—I'm an odd and bubbly burst of sunshine with a penchant for writing and all sorts of other creative endeavors. I've been roleplaying on and off for over a decade, and I'm hoping to find a new story to write with someone marvelous!
Example Posts
Prompts
Thank you so much for perusing! Feel free to pitch your own ideas at me, springboard off of my ideas and add to them, or just say hi!
About Me ~ Lit/Advanced Lit ~ 3rd Person POV ~ OOC Friendly ~ Real life gender is irrelevant to me ~ Time Zone : GMT-6, but no personal preference to partner's time ~ RP Locations : Threads, PMs, or Discord ~ Plot/Smut : Always plot-dominant. I'm looking for a compelling story as the cake, with some smut sprinkles (if any; not a requirement for me). ~ F-List : If you zeroed in on this first, we're not a good match. Otherwise, my list is pretty malleable and I'm willing to consider my partner's interests. ~ Frequency : Maximum you can expect from me is a couple replies per day, minimum you can expect is once per week. | Desires ~ Story-heavy RPs ~ Lit/Advanced Lit partner ~ Partner that loves to brainstorm and collaborate ~ Twists and surprises in the plot |
Example Posts
She'd thought everything would go smoothly. Slip inside, leave him gagging on his own blood, slip outside. Really, how much more complicated could it get? She'd thought that since he was sleeping, there was going to be no retaliation, no resistance. She could have been rid of the elusive man she'd been pursuing for months, get a job well done from Vincent, and move on to much more important things in her life. It could have been so easy.
It could have been so, so easy.
Yet luck wasn't with .DUALITY that night. That odd feeling that she needed to be ready to defend herself wasn't just a reflex—it was a warning. She'd considered the disadvantage she'd be in with her plasm levels low if he were able to move past her initial attack—why had she even thought of it? Shouldn't she have been more confident in her own abilities? Yet the answer lay in front of her plain as day, if only she would have paid attention to it, instead of hyper-focusing on the goal that lay before her. That lingering uncomfortable feeling she got from passing through his door was still throbbing strong in her veins—it wasn't just a layer at the door, this odd energy was everywhere in this place. It sent adrenaline pumping into her veins, waking up her senses enough for her to repeat a revelation that she'd known perfectly well, yet at this moment, it made her blood run cold.
You don't know what he's capable of.
That statement rang true as suddenly his body jerked to life, her knife finding some part of his flesh that sent an impossible combination of blood onto the floor and a crazed cackle into the air. The unnatural response surprised her, the grip on her knife disappearing with the fear that somehow that laughing meant confidence, that he had some upper hand and he knew it. He was insane, and that meant unpredictable.
Apparently, that statement extended to more than just his own actions, as his carpet inexplicably moved on its own, sending him catapulting towards her as she began reaching for the knife hidden in her boot. Her fingers recoiled as her hand brushed his skin as he slid across the floor, yet with renewed vigor darted down to snatch her original knife from his body, tearing the hole in his skin and muscle wider with the downward tug. She had to move, to adapt to whatever odd circumstances decided to happen. Maybe she was just imagining the carpet moving, maybe he had tripped.
But it didn't matter now. He was cornered. No weapon, clearly wounded, now was the cha—
Yet as she began to move, she was suddenly staring at the floor, a soft pressure on her back that left her stunned for a split second. What just happened? The question was answered as she pushed off the object and scrabbled to the side, the new sickening angle her nose was at vaguely registering in her mind as she turned and came face to face…with…a mattress? Seriously? This whole house was insane. Hell, maybe she was going insane along with him. Yet she couldn't entertain these thoughts any longer—there was still a very real danger, amplified now by the fact that she was apparently outnumbered.
Swallowing the blood flowing into her mouth from her shattered nose, she tried to focus back onto her original target, but to no avail, as the mattress stood to shield him. A minor inconvenience, but surely she could dodge past it or quickly subdue it somehow—
Yet once again, the darkness of the floor consumed her vision, along with a searing pain in her torso that brought even darker tendrils of black nothingness licking along the edges of her perception. It took a moment to realize the mattress was on her again, not pressing and suffocating like last time, but just lying there. Her hand moved to push it away, its corners dragging through a puddle of blood that she slowly realized was hers, staining the white fabric. For a moment, her mind tried to replay what happened, grasping into the darkness of her foggy memory for some strand of the event. There was the mattress, he was behind it and—
The sounds. There were small, distorted pops in the sea of her mind. Momentary images of holes being ripped through the bed standing before her. And, she supposed, through her, too.
But where was he? There was a sudden, still moment where she glanced around her, taking the scene in. Bits of white fluff from the mattress were soaking in blood, a few stray bullets lay scattered around her, another smear of blood where he had once been standing, and a hole, crimson dripping down its edges. Shit. He opened an .ECHO to escape. Where was he trying to go? Did he have any accomplices that could help him, or was this just his feeble attempt at trying to shake her loose?
.DUALITY crawled forward, feeling the friction of the floor rip the holes in her flesh open wider. Her body was weak at best, the adrenaline dying down in the moment of feigned safety allowing her to feel the pain jolting her nerves and the unsteady shakiness numbing her arms. The blackness creeping at the edges of her vision grew like an impending fog, her focus blurring. However, none of this mattered—it couldn't matter to her, not yet. She had a job to do. She'd come this far—it was time to finish it. Her body slithered up to the edge of the hole, the blood still trickling from her torso falling to the floorboards and mixing with the crimson her target had left behind. With an agonizing heave, she threw herself in after him.
It could have been so, so easy.
Yet luck wasn't with .DUALITY that night. That odd feeling that she needed to be ready to defend herself wasn't just a reflex—it was a warning. She'd considered the disadvantage she'd be in with her plasm levels low if he were able to move past her initial attack—why had she even thought of it? Shouldn't she have been more confident in her own abilities? Yet the answer lay in front of her plain as day, if only she would have paid attention to it, instead of hyper-focusing on the goal that lay before her. That lingering uncomfortable feeling she got from passing through his door was still throbbing strong in her veins—it wasn't just a layer at the door, this odd energy was everywhere in this place. It sent adrenaline pumping into her veins, waking up her senses enough for her to repeat a revelation that she'd known perfectly well, yet at this moment, it made her blood run cold.
You don't know what he's capable of.
That statement rang true as suddenly his body jerked to life, her knife finding some part of his flesh that sent an impossible combination of blood onto the floor and a crazed cackle into the air. The unnatural response surprised her, the grip on her knife disappearing with the fear that somehow that laughing meant confidence, that he had some upper hand and he knew it. He was insane, and that meant unpredictable.
Apparently, that statement extended to more than just his own actions, as his carpet inexplicably moved on its own, sending him catapulting towards her as she began reaching for the knife hidden in her boot. Her fingers recoiled as her hand brushed his skin as he slid across the floor, yet with renewed vigor darted down to snatch her original knife from his body, tearing the hole in his skin and muscle wider with the downward tug. She had to move, to adapt to whatever odd circumstances decided to happen. Maybe she was just imagining the carpet moving, maybe he had tripped.
But it didn't matter now. He was cornered. No weapon, clearly wounded, now was the cha—
Yet as she began to move, she was suddenly staring at the floor, a soft pressure on her back that left her stunned for a split second. What just happened? The question was answered as she pushed off the object and scrabbled to the side, the new sickening angle her nose was at vaguely registering in her mind as she turned and came face to face…with…a mattress? Seriously? This whole house was insane. Hell, maybe she was going insane along with him. Yet she couldn't entertain these thoughts any longer—there was still a very real danger, amplified now by the fact that she was apparently outnumbered.
Swallowing the blood flowing into her mouth from her shattered nose, she tried to focus back onto her original target, but to no avail, as the mattress stood to shield him. A minor inconvenience, but surely she could dodge past it or quickly subdue it somehow—
Yet once again, the darkness of the floor consumed her vision, along with a searing pain in her torso that brought even darker tendrils of black nothingness licking along the edges of her perception. It took a moment to realize the mattress was on her again, not pressing and suffocating like last time, but just lying there. Her hand moved to push it away, its corners dragging through a puddle of blood that she slowly realized was hers, staining the white fabric. For a moment, her mind tried to replay what happened, grasping into the darkness of her foggy memory for some strand of the event. There was the mattress, he was behind it and—
The sounds. There were small, distorted pops in the sea of her mind. Momentary images of holes being ripped through the bed standing before her. And, she supposed, through her, too.
But where was he? There was a sudden, still moment where she glanced around her, taking the scene in. Bits of white fluff from the mattress were soaking in blood, a few stray bullets lay scattered around her, another smear of blood where he had once been standing, and a hole, crimson dripping down its edges. Shit. He opened an .ECHO to escape. Where was he trying to go? Did he have any accomplices that could help him, or was this just his feeble attempt at trying to shake her loose?
.DUALITY crawled forward, feeling the friction of the floor rip the holes in her flesh open wider. Her body was weak at best, the adrenaline dying down in the moment of feigned safety allowing her to feel the pain jolting her nerves and the unsteady shakiness numbing her arms. The blackness creeping at the edges of her vision grew like an impending fog, her focus blurring. However, none of this mattered—it couldn't matter to her, not yet. She had a job to do. She'd come this far—it was time to finish it. Her body slithered up to the edge of the hole, the blood still trickling from her torso falling to the floorboards and mixing with the crimson her target had left behind. With an agonizing heave, she threw herself in after him.
To be honest, she’d been rather calm until now. The tired look on her face and the exhausted pain radiating from her body translated to at worst apathy, at best a genuine desire to work things out. She’d been reasonable—blunt, but reasonable.
But for his first words to be “hold the fuck up”? All bets were off now.
The speed and relative ease he moved to sit up with were a bit surprising, given his injuries. It very well could have been just a front, but there was something still respectable about how well he seemed to hide his pain. His eyes met hers for the first time, and she saw the sharp determination crackling like electricity in his cold eyes, not unlike the same fire raging in the forest of hers. She watched as he made it a point to move the tip of her knife away, not even bothering to feign innocence as she glared down at him.
“Honey”? Really? Wow, watch out, we've got a charmer, here. Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she leaned down a bit closer, her lips set into a fine line of annoyance. “Sorry to disappoint, but this ain’t a damn market.” Her voice dripped with venom as her eyes narrowed dangerously, needles of anger prickling along her spine. “I’m telling you the facts. I want you dead, but both of us could end up dead. Simple as that.” She stood back up to her full height then, arms crossing under her chest as her gaze held his. “You’re oh-so welcome for me being nice enough to be so straightforward about this, by the way. Glad you appreciate it.”
Then came the “but”. She stood there silently, feeling a bit of heat radiating in the space between their hands as he spewed some nonsense about a counter-offer, as if he was in any position to give one. He really thought he could create a safeguard against her phasing? He really thought that playing some bullshit game like they were damn schoolkids was really better than just getting this shit over with? She'd figured he was a lunatic since his crazed laughing in the face of impending death, but the depth of his delusions was just getting ridiculous.
Silence filled the air after his words, a heaviness settling on the area as the two looked at one another. Yet all too soon, this moment of uneasy peace was abruptly broken by laughter, her hand offered in peace retreating away to her side as she cackled insultingly. “Wow, you’re serious? You’re actually serious?” The smirk on her face cracked wickedly across her lips as she shook her head in disbelief. This was a waste of her time.
Suddenly, her amusement shifted to icy contempt, a frustrated sigh rushing into the air as her hands came to rest casually on her hips. “How’s about I paint you a little scenario here. I tell you to shove your counter-offer up your ass and leave you here bleeding in the dust. You die within the hour when more .WRAITHS come around. Instead of fighting my way into a painful death like you, I just use my handy-dandy little gift to lay low and untouchable until I can get the hell out of here, alive.” A soft light enveloped her body as she shifted into plasm, walking casually towards him until she’d traveled straight through, continuing on her short route to one of the dead .WRAITHS as she slowly melted back into her physical form. Though it was exhausting at this point to utilize her ability when her senses weren’t dulled by adrenaline, she’d go to nearly any length to prove a point to this asshole.
Her small form crouched down as her hand reached for a tuft of fur ripped from one of the .WRAITHS during the fight, rubbing the matted and rough fibers between her fingers. “Maybe later, I’ll come back and dig whatever pieces of meat and flesh that are left of you a nice, shallow grave. If you’re lucky, I might even be nice enough to bring a couple flowers or something in mourning, or some shit like that.”
The fur floated to the ground as she stood, wandering over to the .WRAITH carcass a few feet away. “You’ve got some serious balls, sitting around acting like I’m not trying to do you a favor here by extending your life by an hour. At least I could make it quick and painless.” She leaned down again, taking the head of the .WRAITH in her hand, observing the shark teeth corruption with mild interest. “These .WRAITHS?” With a hand under its chin, she opened and closed its jaws in a sharp, snapping motion. “Not so much.”
It was a few seconds before she wandered her way back to standing in front of the man, slender shoulders shrugging as a genuine grin ghosted across her expression. “But you know what? I like games. Jobs like this are always so boring.” This was a waste of her time—but she may as well find some way to enjoy it. His death would be the culmination of months of work. Then, she’d have to go back to less interesting targets and burying her face in research, and where was the fun in that? It could be worth dragging the end of all this out, even if only to have the satisfaction of beating him at his own game before she experienced the joy of tearing his throat open.
She lowered herself to sit next to him, the ground a bit cold as she leaned back on her hands, gaze searching his face with interest. “All right, Jigsaw. You want me to actually take you up on this game? You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific than that. What kind of game are we talking about?”
But for his first words to be “hold the fuck up”? All bets were off now.
The speed and relative ease he moved to sit up with were a bit surprising, given his injuries. It very well could have been just a front, but there was something still respectable about how well he seemed to hide his pain. His eyes met hers for the first time, and she saw the sharp determination crackling like electricity in his cold eyes, not unlike the same fire raging in the forest of hers. She watched as he made it a point to move the tip of her knife away, not even bothering to feign innocence as she glared down at him.
“Honey”? Really? Wow, watch out, we've got a charmer, here. Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she leaned down a bit closer, her lips set into a fine line of annoyance. “Sorry to disappoint, but this ain’t a damn market.” Her voice dripped with venom as her eyes narrowed dangerously, needles of anger prickling along her spine. “I’m telling you the facts. I want you dead, but both of us could end up dead. Simple as that.” She stood back up to her full height then, arms crossing under her chest as her gaze held his. “You’re oh-so welcome for me being nice enough to be so straightforward about this, by the way. Glad you appreciate it.”
Then came the “but”. She stood there silently, feeling a bit of heat radiating in the space between their hands as he spewed some nonsense about a counter-offer, as if he was in any position to give one. He really thought he could create a safeguard against her phasing? He really thought that playing some bullshit game like they were damn schoolkids was really better than just getting this shit over with? She'd figured he was a lunatic since his crazed laughing in the face of impending death, but the depth of his delusions was just getting ridiculous.
Silence filled the air after his words, a heaviness settling on the area as the two looked at one another. Yet all too soon, this moment of uneasy peace was abruptly broken by laughter, her hand offered in peace retreating away to her side as she cackled insultingly. “Wow, you’re serious? You’re actually serious?” The smirk on her face cracked wickedly across her lips as she shook her head in disbelief. This was a waste of her time.
Suddenly, her amusement shifted to icy contempt, a frustrated sigh rushing into the air as her hands came to rest casually on her hips. “How’s about I paint you a little scenario here. I tell you to shove your counter-offer up your ass and leave you here bleeding in the dust. You die within the hour when more .WRAITHS come around. Instead of fighting my way into a painful death like you, I just use my handy-dandy little gift to lay low and untouchable until I can get the hell out of here, alive.” A soft light enveloped her body as she shifted into plasm, walking casually towards him until she’d traveled straight through, continuing on her short route to one of the dead .WRAITHS as she slowly melted back into her physical form. Though it was exhausting at this point to utilize her ability when her senses weren’t dulled by adrenaline, she’d go to nearly any length to prove a point to this asshole.
Her small form crouched down as her hand reached for a tuft of fur ripped from one of the .WRAITHS during the fight, rubbing the matted and rough fibers between her fingers. “Maybe later, I’ll come back and dig whatever pieces of meat and flesh that are left of you a nice, shallow grave. If you’re lucky, I might even be nice enough to bring a couple flowers or something in mourning, or some shit like that.”
The fur floated to the ground as she stood, wandering over to the .WRAITH carcass a few feet away. “You’ve got some serious balls, sitting around acting like I’m not trying to do you a favor here by extending your life by an hour. At least I could make it quick and painless.” She leaned down again, taking the head of the .WRAITH in her hand, observing the shark teeth corruption with mild interest. “These .WRAITHS?” With a hand under its chin, she opened and closed its jaws in a sharp, snapping motion. “Not so much.”
It was a few seconds before she wandered her way back to standing in front of the man, slender shoulders shrugging as a genuine grin ghosted across her expression. “But you know what? I like games. Jobs like this are always so boring.” This was a waste of her time—but she may as well find some way to enjoy it. His death would be the culmination of months of work. Then, she’d have to go back to less interesting targets and burying her face in research, and where was the fun in that? It could be worth dragging the end of all this out, even if only to have the satisfaction of beating him at his own game before she experienced the joy of tearing his throat open.
She lowered herself to sit next to him, the ground a bit cold as she leaned back on her hands, gaze searching his face with interest. “All right, Jigsaw. You want me to actually take you up on this game? You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific than that. What kind of game are we talking about?”
Though her body was present within the excitement and bustle of the events within the carriage and her thoughts were mostly centered on the mysteries before her, something within Keris’s mind pulled her away from the scene and into an unknown void. It was a foreign feeling, an odd sensation of being present yet not as the emptiness began to form colors, then shapes, and finally objects. Slowly, as if she were resurfacing from black waters back into the clarity of the world above, a scene began to form within her vision as those same steely eyes widened in unsettled recognition.
A bleak white room caged her, dark monitors and metallic instruments littering the room in organized abandon. The scent of the room was painstakingly sterile, as if someone had tried to wash away all of the sins that poisoned the room like a thick miasma. It was a scene that was horrifyingly familiar, a nightmare that was ever-present in her mind no matter how much time passed or how much distance she put between herself and the accursed place.
The flood of memories threatening to drown her was abruptly cut off as a sharp knock echoed into the room. The heavy metal door stood imposingly near a corner of the whitewashed prison, a small window near the top not showing any indication of the person standing on the other side. The metal was painted over with the same bleak shade of false innocence, small bits chipping off near the hinges to reveal the dull gray underneath.
Then came the voice, the vaguely familiar tone of a man that sat mere feet from her on the carriage, seeming as casual as if she were merely imagining this intrusion into her mind, yet that certainly wasn’t the case. Her body in both realms stiffened, the version of her trapped within the laboratory walls walking over to slowly open the door, immediately slipping through and closing the door behind her so she stood with her new companion within a blindingly bright hallway, the fluorescent lights above almost sickening in their intensity.
“Vanri.” She addressed him, face stoic as her gaze examined his form. “Somehow this isn’t the first time my mind’s been intruded upon today. So, what is this? Psionic abilities? Some sort of magic-based cognitive intrusion?” Pale arms folded across her chest as her back came into contact with the blank walls, leaning her weight onto it a bit, yet the tenseness within her body was still readily apparent. “Questions, huh? Why come to me with them?”
A bleak white room caged her, dark monitors and metallic instruments littering the room in organized abandon. The scent of the room was painstakingly sterile, as if someone had tried to wash away all of the sins that poisoned the room like a thick miasma. It was a scene that was horrifyingly familiar, a nightmare that was ever-present in her mind no matter how much time passed or how much distance she put between herself and the accursed place.
The flood of memories threatening to drown her was abruptly cut off as a sharp knock echoed into the room. The heavy metal door stood imposingly near a corner of the whitewashed prison, a small window near the top not showing any indication of the person standing on the other side. The metal was painted over with the same bleak shade of false innocence, small bits chipping off near the hinges to reveal the dull gray underneath.
Then came the voice, the vaguely familiar tone of a man that sat mere feet from her on the carriage, seeming as casual as if she were merely imagining this intrusion into her mind, yet that certainly wasn’t the case. Her body in both realms stiffened, the version of her trapped within the laboratory walls walking over to slowly open the door, immediately slipping through and closing the door behind her so she stood with her new companion within a blindingly bright hallway, the fluorescent lights above almost sickening in their intensity.
“Vanri.” She addressed him, face stoic as her gaze examined his form. “Somehow this isn’t the first time my mind’s been intruded upon today. So, what is this? Psionic abilities? Some sort of magic-based cognitive intrusion?” Pale arms folded across her chest as her back came into contact with the blank walls, leaning her weight onto it a bit, yet the tenseness within her body was still readily apparent. “Questions, huh? Why come to me with them?”
Prompts
Note : None of these are extremely fleshed out plots, merely a spark of an idea that can be molded into what we both would like out of an RP. I've labeled them with the basic duo of who our characters are—if you have a preference for which you'd prefer, I'm happy to oblige! |
Sci-Fi An enhanced super-soldier tries to scratch out a new life after the war, but the company that created them is pressured into destroying them to further ease post-war tensions. Someone is hired to kill one of these soldiers, but things go wrong and they ultimately end up forming a tenuous alliance when they start to suspect that the company is up to something sinister.
Between two enemy city-states lies a no-man's land, a town completely destroyed and riddled with war machines and toxins from a war not long past. One character is an engineer content to work with their grandfather at their repair shop in the slums for the rest of their life. The other character is a smuggler between the city-states–a dangerous job, as they have to traverse the wastes between, avoiding hazards and still-active machinery. The smuggler arrives in the engineer's shop after a particularly bad trip, with their vehicle (ship, ground vehicle, etc.) needing repair, and convinces the engineer to join them.
A bored debt collector just trying to get their job done and go home is propositioned by a sly nightclub owner to take on bets in the form of interesting challenges or games to get out of making payments.
A fugitive hides aboard a ship in hopes of getting off-planet for a fresh start. Unfortunately, they've found themselves onboard the vessel of the most notorious criminal in the system.
A secret, highly illegal laboratory is experimenting on people, and our characters are unlucky enough to be two of the subjects. Life on the inside is full of mystery, as nobody knows what exactly these experiments have been doing. At least, until things start going wrong. An adventure full of finding buried secrets and making horrifying discoveries.
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Fantasy A world where one side is perpetually in sunlight, and the other in shadow. Distinct cultures have developed on each side, and through some conflict cut off all ties with one another long ago. The space between is a no man's land that nobody has traversed in centuries, until now. Something has brought someone to the edge of their world and into the first steps of a new one.
A student/teacher dynamic, but eventually the chaos of the world cuts training short and requires the apprentice to face danger and use what they've learned to survive.
Classic pairing, contemporary plot. The royal was denounced and lost their right to the throne. The knight has their own reasons for staying at their side. This is a redemption quest, or a revenge quest, dependent on how desperate the royal is for their place on the throne.
A classic, witty game of one-upping each other, but they both soon learn that someone else has been the true murderer.
A mercenary was hired to bail some guy out of jail; easy money, so why not? Unfortunately, the criminal's antics have dragged the mercenary into a seemingly futile quest.
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Settings, Fandoms, Pairings, Etc. Random genres of interest:~ Noir/neo-noir ~ Steampunk/cyberpunk/dieselpunk Fandoms (Mostly for the world; I'd have to be convinced into playing canon characters) • Mass Effect • Fallout • Nier and Nier:Automata • Outer Worlds • Final Fantasy • Fire Emblem • Attack on Titan • Cowboy Bebop • Fullmetal Alchemist |
Thank you so much for perusing! Feel free to pitch your own ideas at me, springboard off of my ideas and add to them, or just say hi!