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Rakan
Planetoid
- Joined
- Sep 25, 2018
with a nice game of Connect 4.
...
...what? You thought it would be something else?
Darling, I'm a sly fox, not an easy dog.
...
...what? You thought it would be something else?
Darling, I'm a sly fox, not an easy dog.
-
If you couldn't already tell, I have more than just a slight affinity for the aloof tease who likes using words, not swords. While I can roleplay the more brooding type or the more aggressive, it's not really enjoyable. See, I like roleplaying the cat and mouse relationship except the cat and mouse switch places every once in a while so that suddenly one is being chasing after having been chase because what's the fun in a chase if all you have to do it run away and stay away?
It's much more fun to take your little plan and turn it upside down.
I've been roleplaying for several years and have a lot of experience, but I've settled onto this particular archetype as my favorite. That's not to say I don't play other kinds of characters; I just seem to gel with this one the most. It pops out in my writing style as well; I prefer and excel at writing back and forth dialogue instead of action. Set the stage and watch the characters duke it out verbally.
So if you're looking for the type of character who runs into the fray like a knight to save your character from imminent death...well, you'll get that if you work for it. I prefer to RP a growing of a relationship instead of an established one (some exceptions). Gotta make sure your character's worth it first.
I would like to see a writing sample(s) before roleplaying. Even if you have perfect grasp of the English language, sometimes our styles just don't mesh well, and I think it's best to figure that out before the planning phase. My own writing samples are in the tab next to plot pitches.
Alternatively, if you just want to chat, hit me up! It's always nice to see that red notification in my inbox <3
How I rol(eplay)
- I match my post length for the most part. Two-three paragraphs is my minimum goal. My OP's generally have 1k-2k words in them regardless.
- I can post about every day. I'm pretty active in the mornings and late evenings.
- Other ideas are welcome! I have plenty of plots to choose from, but feel free to field your ideas as well.
- I love communication. If you can't post, have questions, need help, or even want to criticize what I wrote, speak up!
- Honesty and frankness are the best policy with me. I promise I won't get mad. If something's wrong, that means I need to git gud.
- Bailing does not bother me. If you bail on a roleplay and come back two months later with reply or something else, we can pick up without skipping a beat.
- I do not repeatedly solicit replies. My policy is to poke my partners one time about a week after our last contact.
- I'm anthro friendly, so feel free to ask!
- I would like to fade-to-black for roleplays. Sex in a plot is fine, and some steamy make-out action is good, but I would like to keep the actual sex scene off screen.
- I would like your character to be able to do verbal repartee with mine. Aesthetics are a secondary here.
- I like to take charge. While GMing a plot is a bit too much for me, I definitely feel more in my element when I know I can control the narrative and not subservient to another's world building.
- Partners with initiative are great. Gimme something to work with every single post.
- Talking, acting, and fixing are the key. Plot focused roleplays should have romance, problem solving, and dialogue.
- Back and forth quips are great. If you like rping a tsundere, then this will work out perfectly.
- Faceclaims are always nice, but don't feel like you have to find one.
-
You can assume that I am craving my new plots above ones in my regular old plots.
If you want to try one of these, I may crash into the table while trying to recover my composure and then look aloof while the pitcher of water is broken on the floor. "Pitcher? What pitcher. Anyway, yes, I think I might be a bit interested in that plot."
MC is a highly technician who lives on the outskirts of a dystopian city, close to where the city ends and nature begins. He approaches a chopshop for cheap parts only for the owner to display YC, a beaten, abused, and broken android previous tossed out by the local mob for poor performance. MC runs some short diagnostics and discovers she's still alive. With his heart moved to save her, he purchases her broken husk and brings her home with the intention of repairing both her body and software.
The dynamic I'd like in either ratio is for MC to be the kind, caring master of YC. Whether YC is reserved and shy, strong willed and bratty, or something else is all good.
The dynamic I'm looking for is an absolute train wreck of a love-polygon. YC is an aloof, rough and tumble girl who doesn't socialize well with other people her age. She has a crush on MC, her classmate/coworker who is shy, humble, and has stayed single for as long as she can remember.
However, YC is also a superhero who protects the city from evildoers. When she dons her persona, she acts like how she really wants to be: outgoing, confident, honorable, and a bit girly. While not quite her nemesis, she frequently runs into a master thief. He is a sly witted young man who spends each encounter flirting and teasing, much to her frustration. He'll have her chase him until the game is up and hand over the stolen goods before disappearing into thin air. Unbeknownst to either of them, the thief is her crush in disguise, the superhero (who is the person the guy likes) is actually the girl who he is ambivalent to normally.
Length: ***
Completeness [][]
YC has joined the kingdom's premier military academy. Her merit has netted her a special opportunity to perform a diplomatic mission on behalf of the king. However, her colleagues are intensely jealous of her and sabotage her opportunity. The department is split on the matter and decides to give her another chance provided she work with someone of the different branch: MC. Unlike YC who has studied in the more prestigious and noble circles, MC has more practical training on the field and informs the department of any success or failure YC has on the mission.
furry/non-furry
YC is an omega that lives at the edges of the tribe. She is nothing special to behold from the outside, but has honed her skills with X to try and compete with the alphas of her matriarchal tribe. Suddenly, MC, a human, appears on her doorstep. Wounded and dying, she nurses him back to health. As he recovers, she realizes that this is her chance. She is so low on the hierarchy that no males of her tribes would elevate her status, but as an outsider, MC is none the wiser. By converting the human to her tribe, she will have proven her value to the tribe and elevate herself from a downtrodden omega into not just an alpha, but a supreme alpha. Then she'll be able to lord over the bitches who made her life hell and have a harem of males to fawn over her!
That is, assuming her guest doesn't figure out she's just using him...or even worse...fall in love with him herself and devote herself to him...
The conversion of MC would be transformation to the same kind of species, whether that be a furry or something like a demon or drow. It would be slow and take place over the course of several days in the plot in order to give YC a chance to fall for him. -
One-on-One plots:
Plots are in order I came up with them. Not in any other particular order.
I'll have length and completeness next to ideas.
The number of stars will be the number of main plot scenes I'm thinking of having (doesn't include transition scenes).
The number of [] is basically:
[] = I got a title and a scene. Work with me!!!
[][] = Ok, I got the above and some direction. Let's work out an end game
[][][] = I got the start, middle, and end fleshed out. Let's go!
Length ***
Completeness [][][]
YC is a member of the amazon tribe "Macguffinonia". Their queen has just passed away. Since Amazons in a single tribe are born of clay from the same sacred ground, they are all 'family' and so choose royals differently from humans. Instead of the oldest, the winner of the MacGuffin trials becomes queen. The trials consist of two tests (YOU THOUGHT IT'D BE THREE, DIDN'T YOU!!): trial of the wilds and trial of nightmares. The first is a hunger games/battle royale of survival to the final 16ish. Those 16ish people then navigate a labyrinth. Details will be explained in PM.
MC is a wandering rogue who happens to stumble in on YC as she is alone in the woods/mountains/jungle/whatever. Wanting to win by any means necessary, she enlists his help to tip the trials in her favor.
It is not set in stone that YC would win the trials.
Length *****
Completeness [][]
The king is dead. Killed by the reaper. In his place, the eldest of four sons (MC) ascends the throne at a rather young age of 25. A puritan type, he wishes to scour his father's kingdom of the corruption he allowed to fester both in the legislation and in the moral values of the people.
YC is a life-long prostitute from a long line of whores (sucks to be YC ;-; ) that belongs to one of the most popular and lucrative brothels in the capital. Unbeknownst to the king, one of his more rebellious brothers has rented the services of the brothel for the reception party after his coronation (i.e. an excuse to get YC and mine in proximity). YC's boss has ordered YC to seduce the new king so that they can get a nice, steady paycheck.
This plot takes cues from a comic of the same name (which is in itself based on a roleplay ). If you happen to know of it, I'll be getting some ideas from the plot if we hit a dead end.
Length ***
Completeness []
Got some versatility in this one. Either of us can play either character ( I use 'he' as gender unknown)
A swordsman on a journey of revenge breaks his sword and goes to get it repaired at a blacksmith. Impressed with the blacksmith's work, he recruits him as his person sword smith, searching for a harder material to make the best sword and kill his target.
Not doing MxM as I'm looking for a bit of romance in this one. The Sacred Blacksmith and Tales of Berseria got me itching for this.
Length: ***
Completeness [][]
YC has joined the kingdom's premier military academy. Her merit has netted her a special opportunity to perform a diplomatic mission on behalf of the king. However, her colleagues are intensely jealous of her and sabotage her opportunity. The department is split on the matter and decides to give her another chance provided she work with someone of the different branch: MC. Unlike YC who has studied in the more prestigious and noble circles, MC has more practical training on the field and informs the department of any success or failure YC has on the mission.
Length: *
Completeness [][][]
Horace is exploring the underground ruins of a lost civilization when he stumbles upon an ancient vessel. When he picks it up, an ancient spirit (AKA a genie AKA Muse B) issues forth and in exchange for releasing her from the confines of her prison, agrees to give him three wishes. After much careful thought, he settles on: escape from the underground ruins, always having enough money to buy what is for sale, and a life long companion to love and be loved by. Does it turn out good? Bad? Ugly? I don't know! You decide!
This plot probably has the most creative freedom for you as you get to decide how Muse B fulfills the wishes ahead of time. -
Generally speaking, we can agree on themes, ideas, and post frequency, but if we can't even look or read each other's posts without eye twitches, then it's just not gonna work. That said, even if we don't agree on much, if our styles are pleasing to the other, I think we can each make a story the other really enjoys! To that end, here are some writing samples over the past year or so. Each sample is from a different RP, and if you see the same name in different ones, it's because I recycle names a lot.
All at once, he could move normally. Had he broken the hold the man had over him? No, he was knocked to the ground sputtering painful groans with Marina standing over him. Cinaed took that moment to strike, drawing his sword and slashing one of the pirates' arms in one stroke. It wasn't deep enough to maim unfortunately, but it incapacitated the man long enough for the awning to come crashing down around him and two others. There was one pirate left, and he wouldn't relent. Cinaed backed up a step for some room then went forward again to add to the momentum of his heavy, downward stroke. This time, the blade rend its target; a deep gash from shoulder to spleen burst with blood and howls of pain. The rush of battle kept Cinaed glued in place, hyper sensitive to the scene until Marina grabbed his wrist and pulled him along towards the exit.
Right. We need to get out of here.
A bit obvious, but the thought came almost as a shock. He had been ready to kill the man, but that should have been a means to an end. The end being 'getting the hell out of there.' Marina almost shoved him out the door and barricaded it with a sword. No, that wouldn't hold them for long. Swords could handle lateral stress along the blade but not perpendicular to it. It would bend then shatter in seconds.
But Marina's chastisement brought heat to his face. He had risked his life to save hers, and this was the thanks he got? Well, he had screwed up in that endeavor. Clearly, Marina had saved him. Again. She hadn't been there when he returned, meaning she had managed to escape either on her own or with the help of the bouncers. It was hard to tell if she could have escaped without incapacitating the pirates someway, but also it was difficult to know if that was necessary. Of course, that wasn't why his own face flushed with anger.
"I admit I was foolish," he responded. "everything could have been smoother and without risk had I planned better. You are right; I needlessly risked my life and swords, and now I'm even more indebted to you. But that doesn't matter at the moment because..."
Cinaed walked close to her, leaned over, and glared at her. He spoke in a deathly calm whisper, "You are never to talk to me like that again. I don't care how indebted I am to you, you will not treat me as your inferior. Are we clear?"
Finally," he huffed. The walk had been hard on his legs. Maybe in the future, it would seem like child's play, but for now, he was grateful for the break. The sun's rays beat down on him incessantly, and his head steamed like a kettle. Being already (almost) naked, he immediately waded into the water with no hesitation. The cool water shocked his muscles for several seconds, but the sensation became pleasant as he dipped his head under. The sand at the bottom of the small river felt good between his toes. After a few minutes of relishing the sensation, he picked up some of the sand and brushed it against his skin lightly. It wasn't soap, but it would do. His skin prickled as he scrubbed his entire body. When he got to his waist, he hesitated for a moment. Luke bit his lip before stripping completely and tossing the loincloth onto a large rock.
If Theia didn't care about him being naked, there was little reason for him to care. Hell, if all of the amazons didn't care, then there was no reason at all. Besides, he didn't want to end up pale at the waist and darker everywhere else. Luke brushed his buttocks with the sand but gently scrubbed his groin before moving onto his hair. The salt melted away, and whatever grime had encrusted onto his scalp came loose with some sand scrubbing. After several minutes, he emerged from the water feeling chipper. His skin was red from the sand and what had been under the pink paste, but it didn't hurt. Maybe he'd take another one with some actual soap, if they had any. Probably not. He doubted that they'd have pigs if they needed to hunt for meat. Luke glanced over at his clothes and decided against getting dressed. As he stood there naked, he looked up at Theia sunbathing. If she hadn't been so dense and crass before, he would have bet his life she was inviting him. Instead, he got a silly idea and went back into the pool nearby.
Suddenly, he grabbed an armful of water and splashed her, laughing like a schoolboy.
King Horace smiled warmly. "I must confess, Princes Cynthia, my brother has a habit of wanting to cause trouble. When he wished to marry you, I imagined he had found a wild maiden. You cannot begin to imagine the relief I feel upon meeting a refined young woman such as yourself."
Despite being only thirty, the stress of the throne had cursed the king with the shallow furrows of early wrinkles and lighter hair. He stepped off the dais along with his consort and held the princess' hand delicately. "Amelia and I pray that you can help set Trace on the right path. When he wants to do something, he throws his whole person behind it and doesn't waver. Even if that means- Trace!"
The younger royal casually slipped into the throne room both without procession or even a retainer. His hair was dark brown in contrast to the king's tawny color, and he looked more his age, what without the crown pressing upon his mind. Despite looking subdued and composed, his eyes burned with a mischievous spark, darting between the two guests and his brother & sister-in-law.
"Where have you been? We were to greet your fiance together." The king tried to hide his irritation in his voice unsuccessfully.
Trace shrugged. "I lost track of time admiring the portrait of mother."
"You mean tilting every painting in the main hallway 10 degrees."
A sharp cry of horror from one of the butlers echoed slightly from outside the throne room. Trace smirked. "Possibly."
Amelia bit her lip to hold back the laughter. Unlike Horace, she took Trace's pranks and jab in jest. She felt sorry for the butler, but she knew Horace would go crazy from monotony without Trace causing a bit of chaos, even if he never showed it.
"In any case," sighed the king, "your fiance."
Having never actually met the girl, he sized her up. As far as physical attractiveness, she was exceptional. But that was the least of his concerns. If she turned out to be like Horace, he would have to incessantly annoy her until she left. Of course, if she rather liked his activities, he foresaw a glorious future of driving his brother to distraction.
Unfortunately, judging by her retainer, he was almost certainly a stick in the mud. Perhaps Trace could convince the tin can to take a break? Or go home if possible?
"Ah, Cynthia! I shall give you a full tour of the castle while we get acquainted." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her towards the door. "Let us start in the trophy hall..."
Horace was about to protest, knowing Trace would rearrange the displays, but Amelia gently grasped his hand shook her head, and he relented.
Azrael backstepped from the blow. Had she not given away her position, he'd have taken a blow to the side and that would be that. His instincts kept him alive as his legs sidestepped immediately after before his mind registered her second blow. Vera was fighting extra ferocious today. None of the pretense of the Infinite Cycle. She fought as if she would strike him down forever, never to return to the fight again. And he loved it. The risk of losing it all to the void only drove him harder to attain his goal.
"Good to see you, too, Vera," he replied after creating space. "To be honest, I thought that imp had sent me off on a wild goose chase. It appears you've been ratted out." Azrael slowly and lightly moved on his feet, keeping his lance angled towards his quarry but varied the precise angle with each step. While the new vigor in Vera's spirit excited him, he proceeded with caution. And a bit of levity. "We're alone here, not in front of our soldiers or officers. A perfect opportunity to speak openly, such as what exactly you are doing here all alone with no soldiers or officers to aid you."
"The application dye isn't aligned right..."
Trace stood next to the base plate and closely examined the large dye at the base. It was supposed to connect to the top of the machine via flexible rods and travel upward during the conversion process, but it listed a bit to the left. He wasn't sure how it would affect the subject. It didn't seem to do anything averse to the cats he had tried it on, but then again the cats had to be drugged so they wouldn't move. And the cats were only a few pounds. Even if he made the dye big enough to fit around a prone human female, would it still work as intended?
"No, she needs to be standing, and I'm not making a stasis field generator. Not after last time..."
A knock came at the door. Jericho. "Yes?" asked Trace. "Master Yates, we've brought the young...lady."
"Very well. Come in," he responded tentatively. Now he learned what had made Jericho hesitate. The girl was covered in dirt and grime, bruised and naked except for a servant's blanket. Her face was red around the mouth, eyes, and temples with chafe marks on her wrists and ankles. He get Jericho to debrief him later, despite feeling like he'd been duped and taken for a ride with his purchase.
"Will that be all, Master Yates?"
"Yes. Leave us." Jericho and the two servants bowed as they left the office. Trace went over to the fireplace and coaxed it back to life. His work had distracted him from maintaining the room's temperature. He sat down at a chair in front of the fireplace and motioned for the girl to sit in the empty chair to his left. "I don't like to mince words, but pleasantries before business soothes the mind. I am Trace Yates, master of this estate and third chair of the Board of Governors. Before I tell you what you're doing here and what you'll be doing in the coming days, tell me about yourself."
"What the hell am I going to do..."
Trace stood in front of his window, the moon brightly shining. He looked over the city below, the collective fate of his people resting upon his inexperienced shoulders. Long ago, he had rebelled against his destiny, simply wanting to be an ordinary boy with an ordinary life. He had caused his father so much trouble back then. In fact, he and Felix had been quite close. Felix's antics probably called back to such an era of innocent boyhood. But what could Trace say? Whether he wanted to or not, fate would knock at the door and drag him kicking and screaming. Wanting to be king or not, he was supposed to be king. That in of itself was not particularly binding. No, what bound him was people's expectations. Some would be overjoyed to hear he would relinquish his crown. Others would be sad but ultimately allow him. However, many would fight his decision tooth and nail as their livelihoods depended on destiny playing out as it had been foretold. An ordinary man could afford to make his own decisions. A king could not. Even the most mundane of choices could affect people's lives in untold ways.
Such as leaving the party early. Trace didn't want to think about it, but his leaving would have sent a message, intended or not. People would run with it regardless. Elliot had previously advised him to simply let people do what they will, but he couldn't bear the undermining of his rule. His responsibility was to the people, and some noble trying to hollow out his authority for personal gain would not be tolerated. Of course, there were almost certainly a multitude of such people. And they would be filled by others if removed. At this rate, he'd probably lose his sanity. Perhaps Elliot was right. Within reason. Trace wasn't about to let Felix cavort around the castle with-
SLAM
Trace spun around towards the door. A well-dressed (though not modestly) red-haired woman stood against the door, breathing heavily. Despite her petite size, she had managed to shake some of the lighter parts of his study, like the porcelain flower Presea had given him last year that was now precariously close to the edge of his shelf. Trace rushed over to push it back in place before it fell. Once safely positioned, he turned to the woman with a degree of measured ire. "Who are you and what you doing in my study?" -
I try to tailor my characters to suit the roleplay, but I also like to recycle them to simplify my writing. So here is an overview of the various characters I play.
Below each description, I have added a more succinct description of their ethos. Similar to the classic Dungeons and Dragons alignment matrix, I use two measures: adherence to dogma (lawful to chaotic) and focus of actions (egoist to altruist)
Trace is Machiavellian in nature, manipulating people as a means to an end. His goals can be grand or simple; elaborate revenge or simply using ladies to sate him. If his heart opens up, he tends to view his love interest as a pet to be cared for. He can be a normal civilian or a ruler or anywhere in between.
Amos has a similar personality but is for magical plots as he is a warlock.
He is a Chaotic Egotist
A demon archetype. Violent and craving lust. Usually an incubus or the like. Corrupts the pure down to his level and/or makes the into a demon like him: insatiably lustful and wanting to corrupt those around them. More romantic bits would be similar to a Bonnie and Clyde relationship of raising hell.
Nozgog is the demon. Nazerthrim is a satyr, as you can tell.
He is a Chaotic Neutral.
Good guy Horace. Respectful even when it is unnecessary and looks at people as individuals despite being in a position of power. Headstrong and stubborn, he only wants to help those close to him. May have a hard time conveying that though as he gets angry when people cause him trouble. Woe to those who betray him.
He is a Lawful Altruist
Honor driven and focused. He wishes to remain independent or to serve a worthy master, one who has a gentle soul. Averse to leadership roles, he gravitates towards that of the protector and the support.
He is a Neutral Altruist.
You will obey your better. Disobedience will be met with...punishment. What better master than the lion tamer who is also a lion?
Leopold is my shifter character. While not strictly a lion, he will comport himself in a regal manner regardless. He considers those who haven't proven themselves to be beneath him and expects his inferiors (that means you) to obey his commands. What did he do to deserve his authority? The king must be ready to defend his meal or mate from transgressors, and he shows no pity or remorse for such retaliation.
He is Lawful egotist.
