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EweDoughNo
Meteorite
- Joined
- Jan 17, 2025
Call Me Ewe. I'm returning to RP after a bit of a hiatus. Got my start in the RP scene a long, long time ago in a Yahoo! chat room far, far away.
I Prefer RP in PM. I feel more emboldened in my writing when my words are not public.
I Write in Paragraphs. On average, I'd say I kick out anywhere from two to three paragraphs at minimum. If the general scene flow calls for less, I don't mind, especially if occurring when we are concurrently online and involved in a quick back-and-forth. Third person, past tense is my preference.
I Like Plot. I have no problem with smut. Wouldn't be here if I did. But it comes with the plot. Package deal. Exact ratio to be determined after I dip my toes.
Life Happens. There are going to be days or times I can't make the trip to the Moon. Same for you. Whatever. I'll do my best to drop a line to let you know of a delay, but I might forget. Grant me clemency if I disappear for a while when my mental health calls me away in loathing, and I can do the same.
I Like Big Posts (and I cannot lie). If you want me to stay engaged in our story, please be an involved writing partner. Give me substance. I want to actually care about your character on some level; if I genuinely dislike your character in my heart, it just won't work out. Now, while quality will always comes before quantity, it's nice to have a little something to work with. The more you give, the more you get. While my character won't know the things I do, it helps me contribute to the scene when I, as the author, know what your character is thinking. I don't need a constant inner monologue, but some hints to interact with.
I don't have any real preferred ideas for plots, pairings, or otherwise at the moment. Though in general, my preferences lean to the fantasy realm more than sci-fi. I have zero experience with anime so I will have no idea about any of those fandoms. I am not against playing in a fandom universe, but only if we use OC.
Feel like I need to clarify: I know jack shit about sci-fi fandoms or anime. So just know, if you bring any of that to me, I will be dumber than a sandwich about the nuance and character development involved. Not saying I won't try, just saying you'll have to hold my hand a bit more.
Forever and always: I'll add more later.
I Prefer RP in PM. I feel more emboldened in my writing when my words are not public.
I Write in Paragraphs. On average, I'd say I kick out anywhere from two to three paragraphs at minimum. If the general scene flow calls for less, I don't mind, especially if occurring when we are concurrently online and involved in a quick back-and-forth. Third person, past tense is my preference.
This is an excerpt from a narrative scene-setting I did for a Regency-era story set in an alternate reality where vampires, werewolves, etc are all very real and known to hung at night. The text herein constitutes two of my posts, excluding my partner's interlude as our characters were still establishing themselves in the environment.
Drifting delicately behind the horizon, a blood-soaked sun slipped to sleep behind the misting blanket of the coming night chill. The cascading tree lines and pristinely groomed flower gardens cradled glimmering spots where strategically placed reflecting pools, fountains, and similar water features had been installed to perfect the evening's ambiance. The buzz of pending events was carried on the wind in the clatter of carriage carts and the thrumming of decorated steed's hooves along a long and winding path to a country estate that had remained closed from viewing for longer than any in the Ton could remember.
It would have been miraculous that the estate lands would admit guests. The fact that this admittance was only permitted for a single night was extremely tantalizing and exciting; the estate's renowned White Garden had never been open for public viewing, as far as the average human in high society knew. It had, of course, been traversable in the past, though no one under a hundred years old would have known that. The White Garden at Northaven Abbey was said to be of unparalleled beauty, an artful combination of floral arrangements, and natural growths of pure white petals that shone like dewdrops and diamonds beneath the moon.
The event called for an extensive carriage ride for all attendees, as the estate was nestled far from even a country neighbor's walk for a call. Elites in society were forgoing their summer in the city to be in attendance though many of the families felt it was a sacrifice worth the change. As it had circulated, the young Lord Ravenham was said to be appearing in public for the first time. As the inheritor of the estate, he recently arrived from studying abroad and was establishing a residence within for the first time in his known life. Added rumors indicated he was young, educated, and attractive. Furthermore, the gossipers never failed to mention the two most important traits: that he was wealthy and single.
Along the long, winding pathway of tree-lined roads that led to the house, travelers could see little of the land and even less of the home. The reverse effect benefitted a Lord upon his terrace. He watched as the time drew nearer to greet his guests with a dead anxiety. It was pending and he did not look forward to its approach, but he was determined and resolved to his decision.
The young Lord turned from his perch and retreated. He would greet them all early enough; he should enjoy what quiet he had left. His debut would be too soon.
Guests mingled and chatted, enjoying the chill of a summer eve and reveling in the vibrancy of light that starkly contrasted the shadow of night in this unique space. Blooms of white and placid water all caught the beams of the moon and radiated back in kind. Throughout the winding pathways of the garden, an ethereal sort of glimmer misted between the patrons, filling their heads with as much giddy lightness as their never-empty wine glasses and champagne flutes were apt to disseminate as well.
Despite the anticipated dread many revelers may have held at the prospect of a midnight ball, the general atmosphere and ambiance was full of cheery brightness. Waitstaff slipped seamlessly through the throngs of visitors ensuring that beverages and treats were never far from reach. A uniform white frock adorned each of the attending servants, giving the impression that they were of the blooms themselves and had separated from their branches to lavish gratitude to their visitors in the form of spirits and cakes.
Beyond the ample acreage of the property grounds, guests were permitted entrance to the estate's main ballroom, which of course opened to the grand terrace overlooking the gardens from above. Beyond the expansive dancing space and tables around the fringe of the room, a publicly accessible dining hall allowed for the weary to rest in a more subdued environment. The tables were laden with sweets, meats, breads, and cheeses from all import; if the young Lord Ravenham were not aiming to showcase the weight of his purse, he certainly failed to suppress the scale of his accessibility to rare goods and fine delicacies.
Shortly after the last carriage arrived at the gate and the last arrivals made their way through the yawning maw of the entrance hall, Lord Ravenham was informed. It was time to make his, what did they call this? Debut. What nonsense, he thought with derision. Regardless of his feelings on the social habits of the elite, it was more than time for him to build new connections in the world. He told himself this was pragmatically a move to ensure future business dealings and a reliable stream of income. He also told himself he didn't care about making social ties or forming bonds with any of these people. He pretended he was not lying to himself.
"Alright," he reluctantly acquiesced to the urgings of the head of house staff who insisted he had been sulking alone long enough. "Let us go then."
On the terrace overlooking the gardens, the musicians faded their playing to allow for the clear signaling sound of what was unmistakably a church bell. The tolling heralded the host's arrival and any patrons who happened to be upon the marble landing were the most fortunate as they had the first glimpses of the mysterious proprietor as he glided through the grand open doorway from the ballroom to stand haloed in golden candlelight.
Ensconced in the finest white velvet suit, the darkness of his raven hair contrasted sharply with his angelic arrival. Beneath the outer layer of his cleanly brushed jacket, the young man donned embroidered silks, all patterning swirls of white thread upon delicate alabaster fabrics. Evidently, he took the estate's namesake garden to heart.
Murmurs arose immediately as he came into view, suppositions of his age and temperament leaping around the room like fireflies. Was he yet in his third decade? It seemed unlikely. His face was youthful and smooth, yet he carried himself with the gravitas and stature of an established ruler.
"My new friends," he began, raising his hands to address those in attendance. "I am honored by your presence here this evening. I understand how different these circumstances are for such an event, though I could not shame my ancestors by opening the home for you all in anything less than its peak splendor."
He flashed a smile that lit up like the reflecting pools in the gardens beyond. "As the newest proprietor of Northaven Abbey, I, Nathaniel Aether Ravenham, wish you all a fond welcome. The White Garden has been the pride of the Ravenham family for longer than I can say." His smile turned to a knowing grin. He was speaking truth on that, at least. He knew, but he could not say.
"It touches my heart deeply to have such a fine reception of individuals present in welcoming my arrival. I pray you all will indulge a few requests. I am sure you have noticed certain stairwells or doorways, garden paths and occasional walkways have barriers erected. Please, these are in aims of protecting my guests. As the estate is of considerable age, there are many parts of the property which are unreliable in construct, and I do not wish for any injury to occur. Until I am able to complete renovations on these areas, I kindly ask that those indications to stay away be heeded."
Folding his hands behind his back, the gentleman stood tall. He was lean and lithe in build, though he did not seem to lack strength. The musculature of his physique spoke to an athlete who prioritized flexibility in his strength, dexterity in his power, and an overall health and vigor in his vitality.
"Now, I am tired of hearing my own voice," he chuckled warmly. "Please, let us continue this magical evening and become better acquainted one and all."
The musicians began a lively jaunting tune to encourage frivolities, and the young lord breathed a sigh of relief, immediately stepping to the side to address a member of his staff who had approached with a query.
At least that is over, Nathaniel thought.
Drifting delicately behind the horizon, a blood-soaked sun slipped to sleep behind the misting blanket of the coming night chill. The cascading tree lines and pristinely groomed flower gardens cradled glimmering spots where strategically placed reflecting pools, fountains, and similar water features had been installed to perfect the evening's ambiance. The buzz of pending events was carried on the wind in the clatter of carriage carts and the thrumming of decorated steed's hooves along a long and winding path to a country estate that had remained closed from viewing for longer than any in the Ton could remember.
It would have been miraculous that the estate lands would admit guests. The fact that this admittance was only permitted for a single night was extremely tantalizing and exciting; the estate's renowned White Garden had never been open for public viewing, as far as the average human in high society knew. It had, of course, been traversable in the past, though no one under a hundred years old would have known that. The White Garden at Northaven Abbey was said to be of unparalleled beauty, an artful combination of floral arrangements, and natural growths of pure white petals that shone like dewdrops and diamonds beneath the moon.
The event called for an extensive carriage ride for all attendees, as the estate was nestled far from even a country neighbor's walk for a call. Elites in society were forgoing their summer in the city to be in attendance though many of the families felt it was a sacrifice worth the change. As it had circulated, the young Lord Ravenham was said to be appearing in public for the first time. As the inheritor of the estate, he recently arrived from studying abroad and was establishing a residence within for the first time in his known life. Added rumors indicated he was young, educated, and attractive. Furthermore, the gossipers never failed to mention the two most important traits: that he was wealthy and single.
Along the long, winding pathway of tree-lined roads that led to the house, travelers could see little of the land and even less of the home. The reverse effect benefitted a Lord upon his terrace. He watched as the time drew nearer to greet his guests with a dead anxiety. It was pending and he did not look forward to its approach, but he was determined and resolved to his decision.
The young Lord turned from his perch and retreated. He would greet them all early enough; he should enjoy what quiet he had left. His debut would be too soon.
Guests mingled and chatted, enjoying the chill of a summer eve and reveling in the vibrancy of light that starkly contrasted the shadow of night in this unique space. Blooms of white and placid water all caught the beams of the moon and radiated back in kind. Throughout the winding pathways of the garden, an ethereal sort of glimmer misted between the patrons, filling their heads with as much giddy lightness as their never-empty wine glasses and champagne flutes were apt to disseminate as well.
Despite the anticipated dread many revelers may have held at the prospect of a midnight ball, the general atmosphere and ambiance was full of cheery brightness. Waitstaff slipped seamlessly through the throngs of visitors ensuring that beverages and treats were never far from reach. A uniform white frock adorned each of the attending servants, giving the impression that they were of the blooms themselves and had separated from their branches to lavish gratitude to their visitors in the form of spirits and cakes.
Beyond the ample acreage of the property grounds, guests were permitted entrance to the estate's main ballroom, which of course opened to the grand terrace overlooking the gardens from above. Beyond the expansive dancing space and tables around the fringe of the room, a publicly accessible dining hall allowed for the weary to rest in a more subdued environment. The tables were laden with sweets, meats, breads, and cheeses from all import; if the young Lord Ravenham were not aiming to showcase the weight of his purse, he certainly failed to suppress the scale of his accessibility to rare goods and fine delicacies.
Shortly after the last carriage arrived at the gate and the last arrivals made their way through the yawning maw of the entrance hall, Lord Ravenham was informed. It was time to make his, what did they call this? Debut. What nonsense, he thought with derision. Regardless of his feelings on the social habits of the elite, it was more than time for him to build new connections in the world. He told himself this was pragmatically a move to ensure future business dealings and a reliable stream of income. He also told himself he didn't care about making social ties or forming bonds with any of these people. He pretended he was not lying to himself.
"Alright," he reluctantly acquiesced to the urgings of the head of house staff who insisted he had been sulking alone long enough. "Let us go then."
On the terrace overlooking the gardens, the musicians faded their playing to allow for the clear signaling sound of what was unmistakably a church bell. The tolling heralded the host's arrival and any patrons who happened to be upon the marble landing were the most fortunate as they had the first glimpses of the mysterious proprietor as he glided through the grand open doorway from the ballroom to stand haloed in golden candlelight.
Ensconced in the finest white velvet suit, the darkness of his raven hair contrasted sharply with his angelic arrival. Beneath the outer layer of his cleanly brushed jacket, the young man donned embroidered silks, all patterning swirls of white thread upon delicate alabaster fabrics. Evidently, he took the estate's namesake garden to heart.
Murmurs arose immediately as he came into view, suppositions of his age and temperament leaping around the room like fireflies. Was he yet in his third decade? It seemed unlikely. His face was youthful and smooth, yet he carried himself with the gravitas and stature of an established ruler.
"My new friends," he began, raising his hands to address those in attendance. "I am honored by your presence here this evening. I understand how different these circumstances are for such an event, though I could not shame my ancestors by opening the home for you all in anything less than its peak splendor."
He flashed a smile that lit up like the reflecting pools in the gardens beyond. "As the newest proprietor of Northaven Abbey, I, Nathaniel Aether Ravenham, wish you all a fond welcome. The White Garden has been the pride of the Ravenham family for longer than I can say." His smile turned to a knowing grin. He was speaking truth on that, at least. He knew, but he could not say.
"It touches my heart deeply to have such a fine reception of individuals present in welcoming my arrival. I pray you all will indulge a few requests. I am sure you have noticed certain stairwells or doorways, garden paths and occasional walkways have barriers erected. Please, these are in aims of protecting my guests. As the estate is of considerable age, there are many parts of the property which are unreliable in construct, and I do not wish for any injury to occur. Until I am able to complete renovations on these areas, I kindly ask that those indications to stay away be heeded."
Folding his hands behind his back, the gentleman stood tall. He was lean and lithe in build, though he did not seem to lack strength. The musculature of his physique spoke to an athlete who prioritized flexibility in his strength, dexterity in his power, and an overall health and vigor in his vitality.
"Now, I am tired of hearing my own voice," he chuckled warmly. "Please, let us continue this magical evening and become better acquainted one and all."
The musicians began a lively jaunting tune to encourage frivolities, and the young lord breathed a sigh of relief, immediately stepping to the side to address a member of his staff who had approached with a query.
At least that is over, Nathaniel thought.
I Like Plot. I have no problem with smut. Wouldn't be here if I did. But it comes with the plot. Package deal. Exact ratio to be determined after I dip my toes.
I Will | I Will NOT | I Might |
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Life Happens. There are going to be days or times I can't make the trip to the Moon. Same for you. Whatever. I'll do my best to drop a line to let you know of a delay, but I might forget. Grant me clemency if I disappear for a while when my mental health calls me away in loathing, and I can do the same.
I Like Big Posts (and I cannot lie). If you want me to stay engaged in our story, please be an involved writing partner. Give me substance. I want to actually care about your character on some level; if I genuinely dislike your character in my heart, it just won't work out. Now, while quality will always comes before quantity, it's nice to have a little something to work with. The more you give, the more you get. While my character won't know the things I do, it helps me contribute to the scene when I, as the author, know what your character is thinking. I don't need a constant inner monologue, but some hints to interact with.
I don't have any real preferred ideas for plots, pairings, or otherwise at the moment. Though in general, my preferences lean to the fantasy realm more than sci-fi. I have zero experience with anime so I will have no idea about any of those fandoms. I am not against playing in a fandom universe, but only if we use OC.
Feel like I need to clarify: I know jack shit about sci-fi fandoms or anime. So just know, if you bring any of that to me, I will be dumber than a sandwich about the nuance and character development involved. Not saying I won't try, just saying you'll have to hold my hand a bit more.
Forever and always: I'll add more later.
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