Quix's Random Bullshit Thread (Comments Welcome)

Mr Quixotic

Mr Quixotic

The Lowest Form Of Wit
Withdrawn
Joined
Dec 14, 2012
Location
Australia
As I've commenced playing on threads, and think I have enough other writing samples below, this thread will probably start to be filled with other random crap instead. Comments are welcomed.

Active - BMR

The Heiress And The Hacker - SilvaMoon
A man's attempt to reconnect with his adolescent love is complicated by class differences, the hatred of her wealthy Father, and his Head of Security's uncovering of the renewed relationship, who'll use that information for his own ends. Can they find a way to use their own discovery of her Father's secret perversions against him so that they can be free, or will it all come crashing down around them?

A Wolf In Sheep's Clothing; When Predator Becomes Prey - Xanaphia
When a sixteen year old schoolgirl is referred by the courts to a Psychologist after the teacher she'd had an affair with is jailed for sixty years, all is not as it appears. Who is the real predator, and who, the prey, and will Dr Ellis McHugh meet the same fate as Warren Trudeau?

Flightless Birds and Gilded Cages - Pink Zebra
Manager hires "beard" to protect a young actresses image from the media after a sex club scandal. Does he succeed in protecting her from herself, or does he fall down the rabbit hole with her?

Active - Elliquiy

Dulce Periculum - Flickaha
A twisted love story. A psychopathic, serial-killer meets a woman on the dark web who is aroused by the suffering of others and together they embark on an increasingly sadistic and depraved journey involving rape, torture and murder. In the process developing feelings neither believed they were capable of possessing for another human being, and that threatens to consume both in its intensity.

Fame Is Fleeting; Deceit Is Forever - AzureRain
A story of love, lust, deceit, infidelity and kink set in the glamorous environs of Hollywood

The Past Won't Stay Buried - Tamaska
Her testimony put him away. For good, she thought. However, a decade later, having moved on and started a new life, she now must struggle to keep long-held secrets buried when the past returns to haunt.

Sharks and Minnows - LoveThyself
The daughter of an ambitious Detective offers herself to a loan shark to pay off his debt. However, the trouble only really begins when the allotted time is over they find that, despite objections from both sides of the divide, they can't keep their hands off each other. And that it when to comes to devious plans for climbing the wiseguy ladder, two heads are better than one.

Infidelity - LaSerenity
A woman becomes the object of a tug-of war between two old friends, now rivals, both with ulterior motives.

Farewell, My Lovely - Xanaphia (BMR)
A happily married husband and wife's relationship is forever changed when a stalker, who first toys with his female victims from afar before ultimately raping and leaving them for dead, ups the stakes, and selects a couple as his next target.

An Inside Job - AzureRain (Elliquiy)
An Escort agency owner decides the only way to deal with an employee with an attitude problem is to engage her services, and see for himself if she's prepared to meet client expectations, particularly when it comes to the bedroom. Purely business at first for both, the sexual fireworks only really begin to fly as the relationship develops into more.

The Proposition - Holly Marlow (Elliquiy)
One night, $5,000 an hour, and all she needs do is to entertain he and some high-flying business colleagues for the evening at his mansion. A chance for the everyday teenager to let her hair down; in total confidence, without judgment; and experience something many women fantasise about. It will be her secret to keep forever and she's free to leave at any time with the money earned, however, a further $100,000 will be paid if she stays until morning. Enough to ensure she'll be able to be concentrate on her studies and enjoy College life without the need to work.

A once in a lifetime offer, and it's only one night.

(Expected to resume if/when circumstances allow)

Though They Walk Through The Valley Of The Shadow Of Death - Aurelia (Bluemoon)
Psychologically damaged by physical and emotional abused received as children adopted brother and sister, Adam and Eve, had only each other to depend upon when they escaped the home of their bible-thumping, evangelic Foster Parents. A few years later, closer than ever, and with both working menial jobs in a different State, the old voices and visions come flooding back when on the television news they see their Step-Father, his City's long-term Police Chief, nominated as preferred Senatorial Candidate for that State's Republican Party.

Frightened that a position of such status and importance will provide him the means to bring about the much talked of Armageddon, sending them to burn in the depths of Hell for all eternity, they need to take action to avoid his world-ending wrath, but how can the duo be expected to be able to face down one who is virtually Omnipotent? Only by thinning out his blue-uniformed protective Army first, with the added benefit of pissing him off in the process, do they even stand a chance.

But, how many will be enough and who is stalking them as the cop-killings grow ever more frequent. Friend or foe?

A Royal Catastrophe - Malicious Lullaby (Bluemoon)
When the entire known British Royal Family (along with Elton John and Justin Beiber) is wiped out in a catastrophic catering accident at the wedding of Prince Harry, a war-mongering, Russian mob boss is next in line for the throne. That is, until the discovery of a possible descendant of a child borne by the apparently misnomered 'Virgin' Queen Elizabeth 1, living in America.

Now all Ben Roberts, MI6 special agent, needs to do is get Schuyler Lassiter to England for DNA testing, whilst being chased by the police and FBI, and avoiding the Russian Mob and rogue British agents who want her dead.

Drugs, Sex, Money, Oh My! A Cyberpunk Story - Dor (Elliquiy)
After a young woman's drug supplier is killed and she's disowned by her influential Father, only one man remains who is capable of feeding her addiction. Lincoln Mattix. But his asking price is steep. Can, together, they take over the city?

(I might be amenable to taking up one of these plots afresh with a new partner, and/or putting a new spin on it.)

Internet Killers - DovaKitten (Unfortunately, partner got kidnapped by real-life) (Bluemoon)
A psychopathic, sadistic serial-killer meets a woman on the dark web who is aroused by the suffering of others, and together they form a depraved, antagonistic partnership, involving rape, torture and murder.

The Road To Fame - Sumi (Another kidnapped by real-life) (Bluemoon)
Set in the 1960's, an intentionally cliche-ridden, fun romp about the (mis)adventures of a small-time thief, on the run from the Law in his home state, and a down-on-her-luck Nightclub singer, intent on making her fame and fortune in Vegas, who team up and embark on a petty-crime spree throughout Nevada.

Goldilocks and the Three 'Bears' - Cyanide Disaster (Yet another case of partner being kidnapped by real-life) (Bluemoon)
A take on the classic Fairy-Tale, where, after having broken into the Bear's residence, Goldilocks is rescued from the clutches of her evil Stepfather, and moves in with the Bear's, where she needs to deal with competitive sibling rivalry for her attentions, and the boy's quest for adventure.

The Manor - Malicious Lullaby (After nine months, Mali and I decided to move on to another, more action-orientated story) (Bluemoon)
A High-School teacher becomes involved with the mysterious owner of 'The Manor' and drawn into a world she's never dreamed of where any desire can be satiated for the right price.

Hyde And Seek - Ariamella (Great in concept, but difficult to realise as we wanted to in Roleplay) (Bluemoon)
A psychological thriller set in the glamorous L.A, California, HYDE AND SEEK stars Kat Ellis as Nina Hyde, a successful, reserved, and morally sound model who finds herself in an inescapable web of envy and sibling rivalry.

A joint production by Ariamella and Quixotic Pictures, and a release by visionary director Michael Rodriguez, HYDE AND SEEK takes a mysterious and thrilling journey into the psyche of a young woman whose almost-perfect life is not all as it seems when it's shattered by twin sister, exotic dancer, and long-time object of jealousy, Lily (also played by Ellis).

HYDE AND SEEK portrays Nina's pursuit of twisted happiness after discovering a tryst between boyfriend Christian West (Renier Byant) and Lily, prompting her descent from innocence into depraved sexuality. As the siblings' rivalry expands into a game of seduction, manipulation, and lies, Nina indulges in a newly awakened darkness that threatens to consume her.

Will the same fate also befall Kat Ellis?

Unholy Conspiracy - Xanaphia (A second story that was great in concept, but difficult to realise in roleplay. Moved on to a new scene) (Bluemoon)
In a Christian safe-house for women eighteen and up, residents are being systematically abused by those they've been raised to believe of as 'Men of God', whose words cannot be questioned, and where, contained in those words, the threat of Hell is ever present.

These safe-houses, dotted around the country, are condoned, even encouraged, at the higher levels of the church hierarchy. After all, if it's going to happen, best it happen to the 'dregs of society' rather than 'respectable' parishioners, whose claims of clerical abuse are more likely to be believed, and attract media attention. They've already had enough of that.

Pimped out, sold off, raped, abused, degraded, forced into pornography, and exchanged for political favours, the residents are trapped with nowhere to run, and no-one to trust; they don't dare. Except for one. Can she, in collusion with an Investigative journalist, bring the unholy mess to an end or will those in power discover the treachery, and like others before them, the duo simply be made to vanish into thin air?

Raped Innocence - Xanaphia (Mutually decided our muses for the story had run their race) (Bluemoon)
An ex-cop, now convicted felon, breaks free of custody and accompanied by two fellow escapees exacts revenge on the women who testified against him; the daughter of his original victim, still haunted by the trauma of witnessing the rape and murder of her Mother with the promise that she'd be next, and her Mother's best friend, the girl's current guardian.

Scaremonger - Lait (Unfortunately ran out of steam after lengthy real-life intervention) (Bluemoon)
After being viciously raped and beaten by a small-town Sheriff's son, watched on by three of his friends, then having her accusations summarily dismissed, a devastated woman meets up with a damaged ex-army veteran, who kills to soothe his own emotional pain. A sweet romantic relationship forms between the duo as they embark on a murder-spree, together vowing to 'rid the world of its immoral scum,' and exact brutal revenge on her assailants, and those who stood by and did nothing.

Not So Snow White - Aurelia (Partner and I decided it had run its race and to move onto another story) (Bluemoon)
Jealousy is a curse. The Evil Queen, never one to accept second place, sets out to embarrass her daughter, and have her become the campus whore. Just think of all the money she can make. Luckily, she can keep her hands clean, and stay out of trouble, by having the Huntsman do the dirty work for her.

The Huntsman, left with no choice but to agree, decides to turn it to his own advantage, and have Snow sleep with 'specially selected' customers, and obtain the information he needs that will allow him to take over, and control, the Campus drug trade.

Snow will have to work her way up to the top of the food chain. In the mean-time she and the Huntsman will need to deal with Prince trying to befriend her, Bashful being lonely, and Grumpy stirring up trouble.

Caught Between - LeatrixSage (After a lengthy real-life intervention partner and I decided it'd be difficult to pick up where we left off and to move onto a new story) (Bluemoon)
A moralistic US Marshall makes a deal with the devil. In exchange for ensuring the safety of a career criminal, she'll deliver him the top-dog of the organisation's food chain, the same man he's unsuccessfully pursued for years, and who now wants her dead. Their relationship swiftly evolves into a game of cat-and-mouse filled with manipulation, deceit, betrayal and lies, but the sexual heat can't be denied.
 
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RE: Quix's writing samples

One of my favourite ever stories, which my partner had to leave due to real life commitments. I remain ever hopeful that she'll some day return to pick it back up; as I know she wants to, as much as do I.

Internet Killers - (Thread: Quix and Dova)

Peter Norris wasn't totally surprised by Analise's reaction - or more the point, lack of reaction - to the gun aimed at her stomach, and the threat to gut her with a bullet. In fact he was quite impressed, and his admiration for the woman grew, though of course, he wasn't going to admit to that fact. The only noticeable emotion came when he used the word honey. Pete inwardly chuckled, and filed that piece of information away for future use, as he awaited a response.

The man's lips pursed as he attempted to gauge her inner thoughts in the brief time it took Analise to provide it. He'd seen the way she had appraised him, and an eyebrow had raised. What was she expecting? For him to have "murderer/rapist" stamped on his forehead? That image caused his lips to curl into a mocking smile, which remained on his face as she spoke. He didn't issue a word, or react to the touch of her fingers on his skin - not even when they moved to the hand in which he held the weapon - until she was done, and attempted to display no concern or care at her mention of the FBI, or the implicit threat of the nightly patrolman. If Analise could hide her inner emotions so well, Peter Norris wasn't a stranger to doing so either. There was no sign of the nerves he felt, or the chill that ran through his body. His facial didn't expression didn't change, although he developed a tic in one eye, and his neck muscles twitched as he found himself needing to resist the urge to glance at the window and ensure the curtains were drawn.

When she'd finished, and with their bodies almost touching, Pete moved. He lowered his gaze to take a long, lingering look at the cleavage which he guessed Analise had deliberately revealed, and placed his free hand over the top of hers, to stop it from plucking the weapon from his fingers. "The Police, and possibly the FBI, are already searching for me, Ms Helm. I've murdered three times. What makes you think a fourth would provide them with any more evidence than they have now?" His focus left her breasts, and returned to her face. A smirk played across his lips. "I'm getting better at this, not worse. As for the patrolman, night is an eternity away. By the time he's due, you'd either be bound and gagged in my trunk, or naked, bleeding and begging for mercy in some dark, cold, lonely place where no-one could hear your screams. If there's one thing I've learned from our chats, it's that I enjoy the chase. The battle of wits and competition has been more stimulating than I could ever have imagined, and all that attention you received on the evening news made me a little jealous. I crave my own. Not that you'd get the pleasure of seeing them capture me anyway, you'd be dead". The man shrugged, and gently pried her fingers loose of the grip they held on his gun hand, so that he could raise the weapon and touch it to her lips.

"Black, White, Hispanic, Asian, it doesn't matter to me, and whilst I appreciate your offer". The man kept the tip of the gun barrel pressed against Analise's lips for a few moments, before he inched it back and began to run it down her body. The touch was so light, it could have almost been the caress of a lover's fingers. He ran it over the skin of her neck, her throat, her chest, then lower still. It slipped under the material of her bra, and a half-inch of cold blue steel came to rest between her ample breasts. "I'm not one to enjoy women who give themselves up too easily". Pete spoke as he began to draw the material back from Analise's body, and lowered his gaze briefly to take a look at his work. "It's the chase which arouses me. The resistance. The capture. The pain". Then his head lifted, and he smiled. "Nice tits".

The smile became a laugh, and the fabric of her bra snapped back into place, as he withdrew the weapon, ejected the cartridges, tossed the gun on the sofa, and stepped back so that they were no longer touching. "But that doesn't mean we can't be friends. I don't have many of those. People tend to piss me off. You want us to get to know each other. Ladies first. Why isn't a woman like you married, Ms Helm? Can't find a man good enough? Or was my guess correct, are you a dyke?" Immediately the words left his mouth, Pete shook his head and lifted a hand in apology. "I'm sorry, that was incredibly rude. I've been awake all night, and that makes me tired and irritable. Why don't we get down to the real matter at hand".

All mirth and good humour left his expression, and tone. "You want to watch whilst I rape and murder a woman?" He paused momentarily, but not for her to respond - the question had already been answered without prompting, Pete was just choosing his next words. He was capable, but was she? Lingering doubts remained. "If you truly mean it, if you believe you can handle the real thing, we're going to take a drive after we've finished becoming acquainted. A test run, so to speak. I want you to pick her out. In the meantime, how about you brew us a coffee, and show me the rest of the house. I hope it has a basement?"

The murderer and rapist proffered his hand, as casually as if he were sealing a business transaction. "You can call me Pete. Do we have a deal, Analise?"
 
RE: Quix's writing samples

Goldilocks And The Three 'Bears' - (Quix and Cyanide)

The sun beat down from the noon sky as the three men, hot and tired from the morning spent tilling their neighbour's fields, made their final purchase from the market stall, and began the journey home. The three strode leisurely along the dirt path - a freshly slaughtered pig slung over one's shoulders as a treat for dinner - beneath the thick canopy of leaves. It was cooler here, and the relaxing sounds of birds chirping in the trees, and small forest animals foraging for food, along with the knowledge that work was done for the day, had them in a jovial mood.

At first glance they could be taken for siblings. It wasn't until approached more closely that you'd notice, despite his youthful appearance, that the barrel-chested male who walked a step ahead was of considerably greater age. A Father and his two sons. The Patriarch was Rupert Bear, more commonly known as Papa, who stood at 6'2, with a thick mass of curly brown hair atop his head. His forearms were the size of hams, his hands rough and calloused, and his skin weathered by the sun. He carried not an ounce of fat. A large man, Rupert could intimidate by size alone. However, not those who had spent time with him, and heard the laugh which emanated deep in his belly before it erupted from his mouth, nor those who weren't too taken by his breadth and width to be able to notice the way his deep brown eyes crinkled with warmth and good humour. Bear by name, bear by size, but not by nature. Unless provoked.

His two sons, Edmund and Walter, had inherited his bulk, though neither had yet reached his height. They were men, but still young, and had growing to do. Attired, as he was, in linen breeches and shirts of varying hues, with woollen vests, the boys facial features were alike enough to Rupert's for there to be no doubt the three were related, but there were also noticeable differences. Walt, the youngest, was smaller, his shoulders not quite as broad, and he had his Father's chocolate brown eyes, and curled, dark-chestnut hair. Edmund was destined to be larger than even Papa, and, in contrast to Rupert and Walt, his eyes were green, and hair a raven black. Like his mother, Genevieve.

Genevieve. The conversation and laughter died down as they entered a clearing, and their dwelling came into view. As always, Papa felt a mixture of sadness and contentment as he looked upon it. This was the house he'd slept in every night of his life since he was a boy, and where he'd enjoyed many happy times. When he was but six years of age, he'd helped his own Pater, Humphrey, build it. The child had cut down the trees, sawed the branches into pieces, and hammered in the nails, with his very own hands. Or at least that's how he remembered it. The cottage hadn't changed in all that time, apart from the regular application of fresh coats of paint. It was two-stories tall, with a thatched roof, and constructed entirely of forest wood. The exterior was painted a bright yellow, except for the door, which was a 'just as bright' red.

Inside, a small foyer opened onto a spacious living area, where the family spent most of their time. They'd rest on the two wooden benches covered in sheep-skin, which faced the open hearth, and sit up all night, reading, talking, laughing, eating, and occasionally drinking. Off to one side lay a kitchen where Mrs Bear used to cook - duties now shared by the three men -, and hidden away in the opposite corner, behind more doors, were separate area for ablutions, and laundering. To the back sat the Master bedroom, the highlight of which was the four-poster bed Papa had fashioned himself. A narrow flight of curved stairs led from the kitchen to the second floor, where both boys had their own rooms. From there they could view the thick forest on one side, and the green valleys - where the Bear's allowed their goats and cows to roam free - on the other.

It was beautiful, and a place of great joy, but also one of sorrow, for it was where his wife had died. For a brief period, after Genevieve had succumbed to a bout of pneumonia, just on three years ago, and Papa was in the worst of his grief, he'd thought of leaving. To avoid the constant reminder of what would he'd miss so terribly. However, he knew he never would, it held too many good memories as well. Though, if that had been the decision he'd taken, he could have afforded it. In the back garden, untouched for thirty years, was buried a trove of gold coins.

The coins had been a gift to his Father, from the Queen of a Faraway Land. A modest man was Humphrey, and it wasn't until Rupert's teen years, only a week before his parents were taken by the plague, that he'd regaled his son with the story. Rupert had learned how his Father had risked death, dismemberment, torture, and worse. Of how he'd defeated a legendary troll, and rescued a princess from a tower protected by a vicious ogre. His Father had defeated the ogre, too, after a battle which lasted for days, and returned the young lady to her rightful place, as heir to her Country's throne. Humphrey had rejected all honours and accolades - after all, it had been an adventure, what more reward was required? - and accepted the gift of gold coins only reluctantly.

The treasure had been be-quested to Rupert, as had the Cottage, with the stipulation that he'd know the right time to make use of it. Papa secretly yearned for the same opportunity to adventure that his Father had taken, and a chance to replicate his heroic deeds. However, times had changed, and there no longer existed Princesses to save, ogres to defeat, dragons to slay, or giant beanstalks to climb. Though it made the world a safer place, a better place, it didn't stop Rupert from sometimes wishing there were. Little did he know wrong his assumption was, and what the future would hold.

"Papa, did you forget to shut the door?"

Rupert was brought of his reverie by his youngest son's voice. His head whipped around, then his eyes followed the direction of a pointed finger, and he saw what Walter had seen. The front door was ajar, and Papa felt a deep anger begin to build in his massive chest. The three men dropped the produce they carried, onto the grass, and the same thought passed through each of their minds. Papa never forgot to close the door, and it was too sturdy and secure to have unlatched itself. That could mean only one thing. It had been done by someone else. Who would be so stupid, or desperate, as to enter their home uninvited, and attempt to steal their possessions?

"Edmund, around the back. If whoever it is, is still there, we don't want them to escape". Papa's booming voice shook with fury as he directed his elder son. The boy followed the order without hesitation.

"Let us see who it is, who dares disrespect the privacy of our home". Rupert grabbed his youngest son by the collar, and began to drag him towards the partially opened door.

The Bear had been poked. This was not going to be pretty.


What can I say? The Fairy-Tale fun continues, with a partner whose writing ability is seriously scary.

Goldilocks And The Three 'Bears' - Quix And Cyanide

The weasel shook like a leaf in Papa Bear's grasp, and his head bobbed up and down in agreement as Rupert whispered in his ear, and explained the way things were to be. It was easy to order a young woman around, but not such a simple task when faced with a man your own age, and twice your size. Jacob Slint was receiving an idea of how poor Goldilock's must have been made to feel, and it was obvious the man didn't enjoy it.

However, unlike Goldie, who'd mustered up the courage to defend herself, and denied being his possession - which had only furthered the Patriarch's admiration for the young woman - Jacob offered no resistance. Though Papa's words were rough, and so was the grip by which he held Slint, he was a gentle soul underneath, and had no intentions of maiming the man; if he even deserved to be thought of as such. Rupert wasn't one to cause hurt for hurt's sake, though that wasn't to say that putting the frighteners through Mr Slint didn't bring him some satisfaction. The wink and sly grin he gave the boys as they entered the house attested to that.

Walter and Edmund reached the door at the same time, and each emitted an 'oomph', as they became stuck, half-in, half-out, of the entrance in their combined rush to be first. It took a few seconds for them to untangle their limbs from the others, with Edmund, the eldest, and strongest, gaining the advantage. He arrived at the room where Goldie was, just in time to see the undergarments she held being slipped into the trunk. His eyes followed the movement of the lacy material, and he opened to his mouth to comment, but that turned into another 'oomph, as he felt an elbow dig into his ribs. He tilted his head, and the look on Walt's face, and way he appraised Goldie made it obvious that his sibling had noticed the same as he. The elder boy rolled his eyes, and shook his head, as if to scold his younger brother for an obvious lack of maturity, and moved further into the room. Just as she clicked shut the trunk, and stood to face them.

"What bath?" Walt's tone was one of confusion, as Edmund moved closer to the young woman.

The shyness with which she had spoken, and the way her cheeks blushed, made the elder boy smile. He completely ignored his sibling's query as he reached out and brushed her elbow with the pads of his fingertips. "Sure, the offer still stands. We'll stop and bathe in the river. That way you won't have to wait until we get all the way home." The images that brought to mind caused Walt to flick his gaze to her chest - the one which contained her clothes, of course, although he was also tempted to glance at the other - , and swallow down the lump which had suddenly formed in his throat, and momentarily forced him to stop talking. He couldn't help but imagine what was under the filthy dress she wore. And what, exactly, she'd be bathing in.

'What bath?" Walt asked again, but this time his tone contained more annoyance than confusion.

Before he could ask a third time, there came stomps on the floor, and Rupert popped his head through the entrance. He took in the scene, then focused his attention on Goldie. "Your step-father was very reasonable, and we've come to an agreement. You're free to stay with us as long as you like."

"See Goldie, we told you everything would work out. My papa never lies." Edmund's voice was filled with admiration, and he shot her a wide grin. At the same time the fingers which touched her elbow slid down the soft, warm skin of her arm to take hold of her hand. "Let's go".

Walt meanwhile stood there open-mouthed and stared at the two of them. He didn't move an inch as Edmund, with Goldilocks being gently dragged along with him, passed and clapped his younger brother on the shoulder. "Do something useful, and carry her trunk, will you".

Edmund's eyes then raised to Papa's. "Goldie asked if we could stop on the way, so that she could bathe in the river. I told her we could, now that everything is okay. We can't make her walk all the way home as she is." That wasn't precisely what she'd said, but Edmund thought phrasing it as such would make it more difficult for Goldie to resist his plan. And, his plan it was. He had no intention of asking his Father or brother to join in the fun. In fact, he hoped they could be convinced to continue the journey home whilst he spent the night by the river, 'bathing' with their new house-guest.

It wasn't until they'd almost made it to where Papa stood that he realised, in his enthusiasm, he hadn't even given a Goldie a chance to respond, or to see if she was ready to leave. He stopped so abruptly, that he stumbled, and his expression was one of nerves, and apology as his eyes came to rest on hers. "I mean, that's if you have everything you need, and you're ready?"

Papa chuckled at one son's actions as he watched the other collect Goldie's trunk, and place it over his shoulder. Walt's pupils narrowed at his brother, and the look said that whatever Edmund had in mind, he wasn't to be allowed to get away with it. Not if Walt had any say in the matter.

"Are you ready, Goldie?" The Patriarch stepped inside to give her shoulder a reassuring pat. "If so, just follow me, your Step-Father won't cause us any trouble."
 
RE: Quix's writing samples

The Girl Next Door - Quix and Silva

Sophie looked absolutely stunning laying on the white leather sofa, with her dark hair flowing behind her, a blissful smile on her face and the flush of her orgasm making her skin even more radiant and youthful. No-one would ever mistake her for anything but what she was. A barely-legal teenage girl. Though Adam had delighted in fucking her tight, dripping cunt, and the sensation of her writhing body pinned beneath him, what pleased him most was the fact that, three times, she had cum. It wasn't because Adam was any kind of Saint or desired to pleasure Sophie for her own sake that he was happy, but for the reason that Adam wanted Sophie to experience such an intense, pleasurable fucking that she'd crave it again, and be easily manipulated into more. More orgasms, more sex, more cocks, and ever more extreme acts.

Adam was going to transform Sophie from a normal, everyday young woman into a cock-loving, cum-craving whore who allowed herself to be fucked, used, humiliated and degraded solely for the entertainment of men. And it wouldn't be because she had no other options, but because the girl loved it. Or, if she didn't love it - Adam intended for Sophie to partake in acts he believed no sane woman, let alone an eighteen year old schoolgirl, could actually love - it would be because Adam had learned how Sophie's body could be forced to betray her, and make her react as if she did. The more Adam caused Sophie to writhe in pleasure, and climax, the easier he knew it'd be for him to do so again even if, initially, it was against her will. The viewers didn't want a girl acting like a slut, they wanted to watch her unable to help herself as she came, and made it evident she truly was one.

From where he was positioned, with his elbows holding himself slightly above her body, and knees placed over her thighs, he could see only her face as they kissed, but he was well aware of what the cameras were capturing. The teenagers spread legs, with Adam's cum glistening on her body and dripping down to mingle with the juices that spilled from her freshly fucked pussy. He'd review the film later, both for his own entertainment, and to decide just how much of Sophie and her first performance he'd upload to the website. Not the entire thing. He'd tease the members with just enough to have them clamouring, and willing to pay, for more.

Adam leaned closer and slid his arms up to her shoulders, then down her body, placing a kiss against her bruised neck, before his hand ran down her side and he shifted his leg so that her pink slit would be better exposed. "Of course". Adam's palm glided between her legs to rest against her soaked folds. "I can't get enough of this. And you". As he spoke, his finger gathered up some of her juices, and his own cum, and he ran the tip of it up her body to leave a shimmering trail from her navel to her breasts. "My schedule is flexible, I just need time to organise my contact and ensure he's available"

Sophie had no way of knowing just what Adam intended his associate, and the girl herself, to be available for as he pulled back to his knees and lifted his glistening finger to her lips. "Taste yourself". His voice lowered to a whisper to issue the words and he pressed the digit against Sophie's teeth gently, wanting the audience to see her do as he'd requested. "That's if you're still interested in the job and aren't going to get all shy and regretful when you leave here?" His speech had returned to its normal volume and, though he was smiling, his expression contained the hint of a challenge. "Tomorrow afternoon works for me".
 
RE: Quix's writing samples

Will forever hold the place as my first roleplay partner on threads/PM's, and we're still going strong seven months later.

Tessa Arcadia Meets Her Match - Quix and Andy

Andy shrugged as she admitted she deserved his comment, and entered the Hotel room. With her back to him, he pushed the door shut and locked it. She wouldn't be able to see the smile that had crept onto his face before he'd picked up his scotch, and dropped into the two-seater sofa placed in one corner of the room. As angry and confused as he'd been earlier with Tessa's seeming inability to determine what it was she truly desired, he couldn't deny that he was pleased to see her again. Even if she'd come to tell him goodbye. "Talk", he said softly as she commented about the liquor and poured a glass of her own. And she did.

The contracts were the last thing he cared about, but the subtext that lay underneath her words, was clear. "I'm sure the contracts will still be there in the morning, and we can concern ourselves about them later". He crossed his legs one over the other and made himself comfortable, as her eyes met his. "But I do agree with you, it does seem to be a running theme lately, between the two of us. The flaws don't matter. The world isn't perfect, and neither are you or I. What really matters, is if we care enough to try and correct them". He motioned for her to continue.

Andy Martin spent the next few minutes listening to what she had to say. In that time, he gained a better understanding of the woman in front of him. Maybe they should have done this before. Just talked, about their fears and insecurities - Tessa wasn't the only one who had those - rather than try and rush into something that was new to the both of them.

As she finished, and moved to her knees, Andy reached out to caress her cheek. A gentle gesture. "I understand, Tessa. I know what it is to have control, and not wish to let it go. To never have another person be able to restrict you, or tell you what to do. I've been that way my entire life; independent, doing what I want, whenever I want, as long as it doesn't hurt anyone. Walking away, or fighting back, as a matter of principle, when anyone attempts to exert power or authority over me. Am I the glass? Am I going to break and let you fall?" Andy continued to caress her cheek, and ran the pad of his across her lower lip. "The truth is, I don't know. Life isn't that clear-cut. Sometimes you need to take chances without knowing how things will end. All I can promise is that I would never do it purposefully". Andy took a moment to compose his thoughts, so that he could attempt to properly express what he had to say next.

"I've never wanted to control, or own another person, to have them obediently acquiesce to my wishes, and follow my every command. Not because the power doesn't excite me, it does, but because I've never been interested in anyone who would willingly allow me to have that power. It's something I could never do, that i can't comprehend - desiring anyone, anything, to exert authority over me. Wanting it to be that way. I'd rather die, I would die, before I gave up my independence and autonomy. It's the essence of what makes me who I am and, for that reason, I've never been able to understand, or respect, that readiness to be subservient, in another human being".

His hand moved to cup her chin, and when he lifted her head it was if his piercing blue eyes were attempting to look directly into her soul. "Until now. Until I met you. It's because you are strong Tessa, and I respect that. You don't want it. Yet you do". Andy was articulating his thoughts and impressions of her. "I may be wrong, and that could be the cause of all of our problems, but it's what I see. The fact that you want to hold onto your independence, and won't submit easily and willingly, without a fight, is the very thing that attracts me to seeing you do so"

"Do I still want you? I do, but do you still want me?" Andy's hand left her face as he fell back in his seat and finished the last of his scotch. "Maybe it was too much too soon. Should we take this more slowly? Give us both a chance to get used to it, and what it means?" His eyes shifted to where his suit pants lay by the bed, and he nodded to them. "Or, you can fetch my belt, and plead for me to punish you, right here, right now, for your disobedience this morning. Your choice Tessa. Regardless of where this leads, it's to be your relationship as much as it is mine".
 
RE: Quix's writing samples

I've Come To Stare, You Want Me To Stare? - Quix and Mali

Parker swivelled on the stool and took the new beer from the waitress. He sipped it, determined to make it his last. He didn't usually drink too much and had an early start in the morning. His eyebrow raised when the waitress responded, and gave him that little smile. Her comment about the money had meant nothing, he'd expected to have to compensate the dancer for her company, and it wasn't as if he was short of cash, particularly now with Amy's college fund going to waste. The look she gave him, and the smile, that was different. In his mind, she was adding "you dirty old man" to the end of each sentence. Parker was tempted to explain himself, but by the time he decided there was nothing to explain, she'd left to check backstage. Parker shrugged. None of her damn business anyway.

The sound of applause and music again caused his head to jerk around. A knot of anticipation formed in his stomach then released instantly at the sight of the new performer. It wasn't Jinx. This one was older by a couple of years, and dressed as a nurse. That is, if your average nurse garbed herself in a baby blue pvc uniform cut low enough and short enough to make even a whore blush. Parker appraised her for a moment then turned back to the bar. There was no sense of what he'd experienced with Jinx, the only emotion he felt now was sympathy, for the girl on the stage and the vacant expression on her face, and for the desperate men crowded around the stage cheering and demanding her clothes come off. Although the majority of the audience appeared to be wealthy businessmen like Parker, he didn't consider himself one of them.

This time, he was ready for her. Maybe not totally, as his heart thumped against his chest when he first glimpsed her emerging from the dressing rooms, but more than he had been that very first time. He bit his lip and took in every detail of the girl walking towards him; her face, her eyes, the blouse and plaid skirt, the converses. He was totally aware that the entire ensemble was designed to bring attention to the young, tight body that lay underneath, and he took in that as well. As she moved closer and under the lights, he could see the outline of her nipples poking through the thin white material of the blouse, only looking away when he realised he was beginning to harden in sympathy with her.

He pretended to pay her little attention as he sensed Jinx slipping into the stool next to his. Parker heard her order a soda, and composed himself before slowly tilting his head to view the young stripper up close. At least making himself watch her walk from the stage to the bar had achieved what he wanted. He wasn't shocked by the youthful innocence of her face, the resemblance to Amy or the half naked body so close to his when their eyes finally met. As she smiled and spoke, he smiled warmly back.

"'Oh, I think everyone loved your dance". He glanced up towards the waitress who was hovering around them and raised an eyebrow again, before turning back to Jinx. He knew he couldn't speak to her here, or not as he wanted to, so his hand dropped to the wallet sitting on the bar. "In fact, I loved it so much". Parker's voice was strong and confident as he swallowed the guilt at what this girl must think of his intentions and he withdrew a $50 bill, then a second, from his wallet. "I was wondering if I could have another?" One last $50 joined the other two and he held them out towards Jinx, but not close enough so that she could easily grasp them. "Somewhere more private?"

This story has come so far, and gone in directions never expected when first started over eight months ago. What next? Abduction, and sex slavery? If you ever want someone to make a character come to life, you can't go past Mali.

I've Come To Stare, You Want Me To Stare? - Quix and Mali

Parker remained silent as he released the grip on Jinx's arm, and rested his back against the door. His eyes followed her every movement, and it was if he were watching a movie. Everything appeared to happen in slow motion. The hand that moved to wipe the tears from her cheeks, the nod of her head, the way her eyes widened as she appraised the surroundings. The Club she had worked in had been high-class, for what it was, but nothing as luxurious as Parker's Penthouse. Although he knew very little about her life and upbringing, the Lawyer doubted she'd ever had the opportunity to visit a place such as this. Each piece of furniture had been specially selected by an interior designer, and the suite kept meticulously clean. By Parker.

The way she approached the window brought a smile to his face. He could see that she was attracted to it, as he was. Originally it had been a solid wall, but Parker had that ripped out, and installed the full-length windows himself. He loved to stand behind the glass so that he could see his own reflection, and with tumbler of liquor in hand, look down to the lights of the city below, and up to the stars in the sky above, and contemplate. It made him realise how insignificant his life, and his problems, were in the greater scheme of things. Rather than depress him, in some strange way that knowledge instead provided the Lawyer comfort.

It may not have been for the same reasons, but something told Parker than the window was as special to Jinx in it's own way as it was to him. When she turned back, for the first time since the alley-way, Parker received a glimpse of the women he'd first met at the club. The real Jiacinta? Who knew? Did Jinx even know who the real Jiacinta was? The smile faded away at the evident lack of animation in her expression, and the manner in which she continued to speak about herself in third person. So different from the girl in the club. It sent stabs of pain through his heart, and tears almost streamed from his eyes again, as she spoke about not wanting to bring him embarrassment and shame. He barely managed to keep them from falling.

"You won't embarrass me, honey, I promise". The lie slipped from the Lawyers lips as easily as the ones he told in the interviews and depositions he performed, and he moved from the wall and stepped around her, so that she wouldn't see the expression of disgust - at himself - that crossed his features. 'Follow me, and remember, this is your home now, you don't have to ask. I'll make us something to eat whilst you clean up'.

Parker Kane called his office whilst Jinx was in the shower; the excuses he made for requiring the rest of the week off - a family emergency - only increased his guilt, and sense of foreboding. The words Jinx had spoken earlier, "She'd like not to embarrass and shame him" remained in his thoughts. He'd assumed she'd not been able to comprehend a lot in her state, but somehow Jinx had picked up on his concerns. He couldn't continue to give off that vibe. Parker had promised to help, not make things worse.

And what could be worse than living on the streets as she had been? Parker thought being handed the hope of salvation, safety and care, only to have it ripped away, would be much, much worse for the girl. Had anyone ever actually cared for Jinx in her entire life? Not for how attractive she was, or what she could offer them, but simply for who she was? Had anyone ever kept a promise? Parker doubted it. Everyone deserved a chance at happiness, and he was the only one in a position to provide Jinx with hers. Underneath everything - his doubts, insecurities, and selfishness, Parker Kane was a caring man.

"Here you go, I made an omelette". He placed it down in front of Jinx as she returned, showered and changed, and slid into the kitchen stool. He took a moment to appraise her and, to his eyes, she looked so much better than she had only half an hour ago. They ate together in an uncomfortable silence, and after Jinx had finished whatever portion she was able to, he was relieved when she mentioned the need to nap. The Lawyer showed her to the spare bedroom, then with darkness falling outside, poured himself a whiskey, and slumped into one of the leather sofa's. It was the first opportunity since their encounter in the alleyway he'd had to be alone and think. His actions then, and his promises to Jinx had been instinctual rather than well planned. Had his instincts been correct? What was he going to do. What was best for Jinx, and for him?

For a few hours, in complete silence, and with the only illumination coming from the moon, and glow of the streetlights outside, the Lawyer pondered the situation. He felt a mix of regret, pity, and shame - both for himself and the young stripper - along with the sorrow and guilt which he'd carried for so long. No matter how long he mulled over the questions in his mind, they seemed to be without answer. Parker Kane wavered from one moment to the next, however there was something he wasn't able to deny. That knowing someone was asleep in the spare bedroom - not Amy, but at least another human being - eased the solitude he felt each time he came home to spend the night alone. Eventually, with whiskey glass still in hand, Parker's eyes closed, and he fell asleep on the sofa.

He wasn't sure what time he'd fallen asleep, or how many hours he'd had when he was awakened by a noise. The Lawyer's eyes fluttered, and he groaned, and stretched. In his half conscious state, it took a moment to realise where he was, and what, or whom, must have caused the noise. Jinx. Parker Kane's eyes flew the rest of the way open and he rose from the seat in a hurry to face the spare bedroom. There she was.

"Morning, honey". The greeting came out automatically as his gaze drifted down to note his rumpled clothes, and he wondered if Jinx would realise that they were the same he'd worn the day before, and that Parker had spent the night on the sofa. Or that a half empty whiskey bottle lay at his feet. Sure signs of a man with a lot on his mind. "Did you sleep okay? Was the bed comfortable?"

The questions were ones which would be asked of any house-guest after having spent the night in a strange bed, and Parker knew he was attempting to deceive himself into thinking this situation was normal - to avoid the reality of the serious conversation they'd be required to have. If Jinx was up to it. He wasn't sure how that would go. To be honest, he was still unsure how he wanted the conversation to go. "I'll make coffee."

The Lawyer forced a smile, then entered the kitchen to ready the pot. He'd yet to hear a peep from Jinx. If she didn't start to display any signs of recovery shortly, he'd take her to the Hospital. Parker Kane was anything but an expert in drug addiction, and wasn't a man who enjoyed being out of his depth. He placed the pot on the plate, and lifted his eyes back to Jinx's. "Do you feel better? We need to decide what we're going to do today."
 
RE: Quix's writing samples

The Daydreamer's Vision - Quix and Ava

Adam Tudor was the black sheep of the Tudor family. Not a bad-looking black sheep, at 6"2 tall, with sandy blonde hair, sparkling deep blue eyes, a strong jaw, and prominent cheekbones which gave him a slightly aristocratic look, and an athletic, toned body kept in shape by regular exercise and visits to the gym, but a black sheep just the same. Adam had been born into wealth and privilege, the youngest son of George and Gwendolyn Tudor, whose Deca Realty Co owned half the State of California, and influence spread across the globe. His Father was an extremely wealthy and powerful man and Adam's brother, Charles, appeared destined to follow in his footsteps. Though the siblings were only a year apart in age - Adam was twenty-four, Charles, twenty-five - that year made a world of difference. As the first-born, Charles was the 'chosen one'. The man to lead the company into the future and control the wealth, or lose it, whilst Adam was expected to follow and provide support. That was the issue.

Adam had never been a follower. Neither had he felt the need to lead, or control others. Not that he couldn't, or wouldn't, it's just that he didn't need to. He was his own man, and secure enough within himself not to require the approval or subservience of others in order to feed his ego. Adam did what Adam wanted. As he'd grown up, he'd seen how ruthless and cruel his Father could be, all in the pursuit of more money, more power, more control, and how easily Charles had been led down that path. To say that the siblings were dissimilar, and their relationship fractious, would be an understatement. As for their mother, she enjoyed the prestige and attention. Gwendolyn could also be a cold-hearted bitch.

The brother's had attended the best private schools and never wanted for a thing in their lives. Charles savoured in that, and would treat those not as privileged, as unworthy of his attention or respect, appearing to only care for what people could do for him. Adam, on the other hand, had always enjoyed getting away from the life of wealth and fame, and struck up friendships with the Public School students, and snuck out at nights to visit their homes, to do more 'normal' things. Oh, hadn't there been a ruckus when he brought one of them into the Tudor mansion. The girl's father was a labourer. The Tudor boys didn't date girls whose parents built homes. They dated girls whose parents owned the companies that built homes.

As High School had come to an end, and his parents attempted to insist he follow in his brother's footsteps, and study Business and Economics, Adam had dug in his heels. Though he had a sharp mind, those subjects were of little interest. Anyway, what was the point when he was never to run the Company. That honour had already been bequested to Charles. His Father had relented, and they'd come to an agreement. Adam would follow his passion for photography, and once graduated, return to work for the Company.

Adam was happy with that arrangement. It meant he'd have steady employment whilst he compiled his portfolio, and attempted to enter the competitive fashion modelling industry, which is what he truly wanted to do. It was difficult, as any of his work which was given attention could be seen as more due to his family name, than any talent he might possess. That was last thing he desired. At least until he'd made that eventuate, Adam needn't be concerned about the implied threat of being cut out of the family's fortunes. Not that he particularly cared about the money - Adam had received enough from a trust fund on turning twenty-one to be comfortable -, he just didn't want to give Charles the satisfaction of seeing it happen.

He hadn't been surprised when Charles had ended up marrying a gorgeous French-American model. Exactly the type of woman his brother had always stated he desired for a wife, though the word love had never been mentioned. Adam's opinion was that Charles ego, large as it was, just wanted the world to see him with a beautiful accessory on his arm. He was also aware that, with his siblings controlling nature, and their Mother's influence, Natalia would shortly no longer be modelling, and become but a trophy wife. Gwendolyn was old fashioned in that regard. Adam had thought of warning his sister-in-law to be, but they'd only met a couple of times before the marriage, and what woman in love was going to listen to her fiancé's brother? She'd most likely only think it caused by jealousy, or something of the like.

Now, as he arrived at their spatial home for the family barbeque, Adam smiled to himself, but it wasn't one of mirth. It was caused by the memory of the last such event, where there had been a commotion, and the knowledge that he'd most likely been invited today under sufferance. They hadn't come to blows at Thanksgiving, but it was close. The only thing that had stopped him was the presence of Natalia. He'd come to know his brother's wife much better that day, and wished not to cause any trouble for her. Despite initially wanting to accept the invitation to today's event purely because he knew it would be hoped that he declined, Adam had wavered in his decision. Natalia's presence was the determining factor. At least she'd make it bearable.

The brothers hadn't seen each other since that previous encounter, so Adam, having once decided to come, thought why not allow a little more time to 'catch up'. After dressing in a pair of khaki's and a light blue cotton dress shirt, he'd deliberately arrived early. Charles was sure to appreciate the brotherly gesture. Adam took a deep breath, combed his fingers through his hair and pressed the door-bell. It was just after 11 o'clock.
 
RE: Quix's writing samples

A Lovely Tale of Treachery and Deceit - Quix and Wild

Nate Parker threw the bags containing his earthly possessions onto the creaking old bed, then walked to the window and spread the curtains apart to take a good look at the town he called home. Berne was where he'd spent his childhood but he hadn't been back for more than a week at a time - to visit his parents, and his best friend Colton, mostly - since he'd left for College almost ten years before.

Now twenty-eight, Nate had spent the better part of the last five years, after graduating College with an Environmental Science degree, moving from State to State to find the outdoor work he loved wherever he could. Mostly as a Ranger, sometimes as a Fire-Fighter and other times as a Tour Guide, in one or the other of the multitude of National Parks that spanned the country. He'd intended to return at some stage to the place he'd grown up but something had always stopped him. A job, a woman, an opportunity to travel. Now he was here, and possibly for good.

A decline in tourism and visitors to his latest place of employment had led to him losing his job. It was always the casual labour that was first to go. That hadn't concerned him as he was confident of quickly finding another, but the phone call from his old friend had seemed serendipitous. On the same night he'd been retrenched, as they termed it, Colton had phoned and mentioned that that next time Nate was in town, he had a proposal for him. Though they hadn't discussed specifics, the attraction of returning to see his childhood buddy and knowledge that, sometime soon, he'd need to find sustainable employment and settle down was enough for Nate to book a flight for the next day.

That explained why barely 24 hours after the call, and thirty minutes before he was due to meet Colton and his wife for dinner, Nate was staring out the grimy window of a twenty dollar a night hotel at the rural streets of his hometown. Never being one to plan in advance he'd stepped off the plane only two hours ago, and booked into the first hotel the taxi had passed. Nate could have crashed at his parents, but that idea wasn't exactly pleasant. However, as he closed the curtains and turned to appraise the peeling wallpaper, threadbare carpet and single metal-framed bed, he realised that would have been better than this. He'd have to find other accommodation. Quickly. Nate couldn't see the roaches, but they were there.

At least the hot water worked. Nate stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around his waist to assess himself in the mirror. It wasn't something he usually did but, though he probably wouldn't admit it if asked, he was as much anticipating seeing Colt's wife, Alora, again as he was Colt. They'd only met a few times and it wasn't as if he had a thing for her - she was his best friends wife after all - but each time they'd seemed to hit it off, and she was enjoyable company. It was only polite to ensure you looked presentable when having dinner with an attractive woman, even if she was married.

And Nate thought he did. He'd never appear on the cover of Esquire, but he was a good looking enough man. He stood at 6'2, with piercing blue eyes, and short cropped light brown hair. His nose had been broken a couple too many times in his high-school footballing days to be perfectly straight, and his skin was weather-burned from hours spent in the sun. His chin bore a small scar from a childhood fight but the chin itself was strong, as was his jaw. All in all, ruggedly handsome would be the best descriptor. As for his body, though not overtly muscular, he possessed a barrel-chest and his broad shoulders tapered to a thin waist, his skin was tanned and the six-pack of his abdomen well defined. The physical work he'd performed most of his adult life kept him in good shape.

"Not too bad". Nate smiled and sprayed on some cologne before a glance at his watch told him that he needed to hurry if he was to be on time. One last run of the comb through his hair and a quick-change into a pair of fitted Levi's and a light-blue buttoned work shirt and Nate was on his way. The restaurant was only a few minutes walk, and he was no more than two minutes late when he pushed his way through the door and stopped to look for his friends.

"Can I help you Sir?"

"I'm just looking for some". Nate turned to respond to the waitress who had approached him, then his voice trailed off when he glanced Colton and Alora over her shoulder. "It's okay, found them". He shot her a smile and it was still on his face as he reached the couple seated at the table.

"Hey guys, great to see you".

Nate held his hand out to shake Colt's as the man stood, and tried not to wince at the firmness of his grip before he released it and the two men briefly embraced each other. "I'm good, it's been far too long, how's things with you buddy?

Without waiting for the answer - there'd be plenty of time for catching up - he pivoted on his toes to greet Alora and to kiss her cheek as he returned the hug. "Good to see you again, sometimes I wonder how Colt got so lucky". Nate winked at her then grinned at his friend as he dropped down into a seat.

"So, really, how have you been? How's the business going?" Adam asked as his eyes darted between the two of them.
 
RE: Quix's Roleplay Planner And Writing Samples

"Not So Snow White", Roleplay planner, Character Thread and Synopsis So Far.

Evelyn 'The Evil Queen' White (47) Mother of Snow, and has solid evidence of Huntsman's dealings and cheek turning to the drug activities going on at the College, not to mention the illegal cameras planted in the women's locker room. Decides to use the information to make herself some money at the expense of her 'fairest' daughter.

Sofia 'Snow' White (20) A criminology student following her dream to enter Law Enforcement, what would Snow do to avoid expulsion, and criminal charges, when cocaine is discovered in her dorm room? Will she submit to her abusive mothers ever demanding orders and, in turn, whatever the (slightly nicer) Huntsman may need? However it goes, and whatever she decides, she still has Prince as that friend who will always be there for her.

Hunter 'The Huntsman' Forsythe (40) Dean of the college, and a voyeur. Aware of the illegal dealings taking place on Campus, he allows them to continue, as long as he gets paid. Waiting for his chance to take down Grumpy, and draw enough information to discover the true identity of 'Mr Big', and take over the Campus drug trade. The Huntsman is always watching.

Stuart 'Sleepy' Thomson (18) - A 'wanna-be' Dom, who thinks owning a pair of handcuff's, and being able to order a woman around, is all it takes. In the same fraternity as Sneezy and Dopey. To get to them, you must come through Sleepy. Literally.

Stephen 'Sneezy' Drummond (24) - College drug lord, provider of cocaine and party supplies to other students. His fraternity, his rules. As long as it's women, and not drugs, he's willing to share.

Doug 'Dopey' Rawlins (23) Pretty passionate since he's usually high. He and Sneezy come as a pair.

Barry 'Bashful' Kirk (19) A one-time stud, now a born-again christian living a vow of celibacy, Barry is taken under the wing of the Dean, who attempts to steer him back onto the right path. A welcome relief for Snow White after her previous encounters.
Occupation: College Student

Graham 'Grumpy' Spencer (38) - Professor of Literature, not known for his sociability. The 'moral voice' of the campus, and sworn enemy of the Dean. Who'd have imagined he was, in fact, a 'Dom', or that he had a secret fetish for younger women, and videotape. Definitely not his wife.

Harry 'Happy' Houlihan (20) - College student, and a pleaser. He likes to make the girls happy, and satisfy their desires, and to do so in front of a crowd. An entrepreneur in the making, Happy is the link between Sneezy and Mr Big.

Doctor 'Doc' Martin (43) Experienced, and enjoys some roleplay. Campus doctor, sidelines by selling pharmaceutical supplies. The real 'Mr Big' on campus, long suspected, but never proven. To achieve his goals, this is the man the Huntsman must take down.

Preston 'Prince' Henry (25) New to the Campus, and mostly keeps to himself, though he makes a special effort to befriend Snow White. If she ever needs to talk, or get something off her chest, this gentleman will always be there for her. He sure doesn't look like an undercover cop.

Basic Synopsis

Jealousy is a curse. The Evil Queen, never one to accept second place, sets out to embarrass her daughter, and have her become the campus whore. Just think of all the money she can make. Luckily, she can keep her hands clean, and stay out of trouble, by having the Huntsman do the dirty work for her.

The Huntsman, left with no choice but to agree, decides to turn it to his own advantage and have Snow sleep with 'specially selected' customers, and obtain the information he needs that will allow him to take over, and control, the Campus drug trade.

Snow will have to work her way up to the top of the food chain. In the mean-time she and the Huntsman will need to deal with Prince trying to befriend her, Bashful being lonely, and Grumpy stirring up trouble.


Chapters:

Intro
Prologue - Huntsman and the Evil Queen
Chapter 1 - Huntsman and Snow
Chapter 2 - Sleepy
Chapter 3 - Sneezy & Dopey
Chapter 4 - Prince
Chapter 5 - Bashful
Chapter 6 - Grumpy
Chapter 7 - Happy
Chapter 8 - Doc
Epilogue
 
RE: Quix's Roleplay Planner And Writing Samples

This seriously has to be the most fun I've ever had plotting a story with someone (see synopsis in post above), and I think both of us half didn't want the story to start, but now both our opening posts have been done, I'm looking forward to it even more.

Not So Snow White - Quix and Auerila

'Eight Hundred, Nine Hundred, One Thousand."

Forty year old Hunter Forsythe slid the ten, crisp clean one-hundred dollar bills back into the envelope marked 'private and confidential', with a smile. He wasn't sure why he'd counted it really, as in the twelve months since such an envelope had first appeared, it had never varied. Twice a week, slipped under his door in the middle of the night. Always a thousand dollars, always fresh one hundred dollar bills. Coincidentally the first had arrived the very day after the Dean of one of the most prestigious and expensive Colleges in the State had issued a public statement on "Ridding the education system of the scourge of drugs, starting right here in my very own backyard". Hunter S Forsythe was an intelligent man, and he'd known exactly the purpose of the delivery. It was a payoff, and that had been just fine with him.

As much as the Dean thought taking a stand against drugs would be good publicity, he found the proposition of easy, tax-free cash even more attractive, and his promise to "Save the future great minds of this country from themselves", had quickly been forgotten. Except, by that idiot Professor of Literature, Graham Spencer - Mr Fucking Morality himself - who'd recently began to again cause a ruckus. If it continued, Hunter was going to have to do something about the man.

What else Hunter needed to do, and had been attempting, without success, to do for some time, was discover who it was that controlled the campus drug trade. If they could afford to pay him two thousand dollars a week, then how much was their take, and why shouldn't he be entitled to a bigger share for himself? If not the entire lot. Hunter Forsythe, after all, was the man in charge of the College.

Hunter knew the names of some of the students involved, but as to the identity of Mr Big, he had no idea. Whoever it was had been careful to leave no trace, and Hunter had reached a dead-end. Short of bringing the involved students in, and hanging them by the fingernails from the rafters until they revealed whatever information they had, he couldn't think of what do next. He'd considered that last option, but eventually decided it would defeat the purpose. Dragging them in for interrogation would only give the person in charge prior warning, and time to shut up shop. He couldn't use the threat of expulsion either - the kids would just laugh in his face, it wasn't as if they attended College to obtain an education - so he'd need to bide his time. Something would come up.

Those thoughts were on Hunters mind as he slipped the latest payment into the safe hidden behind an oval shaped wall mirror. As he closed the door, and set the mirror back in place, Hunter glimpsed himself in the glass, and was satisfied with what he saw. At forty, his short cropped, dark-brown hair had started to gray at the temples, and his deep-blue eyes were surrounded by faint laugh lines, but all of his hair remained intact, and his eyes still glowed with intelligence and life. A long straight nose led to a gleaming set of perfect teeth - recently straightened and whitened thanks to his anonymous benefactor - and a strong jaw. He was a long and gangly 6"3 tall, with a body still as slim as it had been when he was twenty. That was mostly due to a fast metabolism which Hunter was grateful for, as he wasn't a man who particularly enjoyed exercise, or sports. At least not in a participatory sense. The Dean did like to watch.

That was the reason he'd returned to his office. It was almost time for his favourite part of the day. Cheer-leading practice. It was due to begin in fifteen minutes, and was something the Dean never, ever missed. Not that he was interested in the practice itself. Oh, no. Hunter preferred what happened before and after, and to view that from the comfort of his armchair. Mr Forsythe, Educator, College Dean, and all around standup guy had, with tax-free and untraceable funds, arranged for a number of exorbitantly expensive spy cameras to be installed in the ladies locker rooms, with a live feed direct to his laptop. If there was anything more stimulating than the sight of a group of pretty, young, athletic, hot, sweaty and naked girls showering together, Hunter couldn't think of what it was.

"Damn it". He'd just sat down at his desk, absently flicked a piece of lint off the sleeve of the tweed jacket he wore, and switched on the computer, when he heard a knock at the door. His brow furrowed. Who the hell would dare disturb him at this time? Hunter had made it clear to his secretary that he required this hour of peace to concentrate on 'important work' without distraction, and on no account was he to disturbed.

He was just about to yell for whoever it was to go away, when his attention was drawn to a girl known as Cherie, who'd walked into view on the computer monitor. Hunter whistled. "Nice tits, honey", and didn't even realise the door had been opened until he heard a woman's voice.

Hunter Forsythe's head shot up, and his face turned pale when his eyes found the woman who entered the room, at the same time as her words registered in his brain. Surveillance? What did she mean? And that grin on her face, he'd never seen such evil. Hunter swallowed hard, and it took him a couple of attempts before his throat regained enough moisture to enable him to speak. "Who are you? I've no idea what you are talking about."

The volume of his words was barely above a whisper, and as Hunter Forsythe began to perspire, one hand crept across the desk, and pressed the off button on his computer. Or that's what he thought. Little did Hunter know that, in his surprise and nervousness, he'd instead hit the button that operated the floppy disk drive, and that the still lit screen was now filled with crystal clear images of half-naked female college-students, with the school logo prominently displayed on their uniforms.

"What do you want?"
 
RE: Quix's Writing Samples And Other Stuff (Comments welcome)

My favourite piece of prose, and inspiration, written by one historical figure I truly admire, for both his thoughts and deeds.

A Humanist Thanksgiving Proclamation

When I became convinced that the universe is natural — that all the ghosts and gods are myths, there entered into my brain, into my soul, into every drop of my blood, the sense, the feeling, the joy of freedom.

The walls of my prison crumbled and fell, the dungeon was flooded with light and all the bolts and bars and manacles became dust. I was no longer a servant, a serf or a slave. There was for me no master in all the world — not even infinite space.

I was free:

Free to think, to express my thoughts
Free to live my own ideal
Fee to live for myself and those I loved
Free to use all my faculties, all my senses
Free to spread imagination’s wings
Free to investigate, to guess and dream and hope
Free to judge and determine for myself
Free to reject all ignorant and cruel creeds, all the “inspired” books that savages have produced, and all the barbarous legends of the past
Free from popes and priests
Free from all the “called” and “set apart”
Free from sanctified mistakes and “holy” lies
Free from the winged monsters of the night
Free from devils, ghosts and gods

For the first time I was free. There were no prohibited places in all the realms of thought — no air, no space, where fancy could not spread her painted wings; no claims for my limbs; no lashes for my back; no fires for my flesh; no following another’s steps; no need to bow, or cringe, or crawl, or utter lying words. I was free. I stood erect and fearlessly, joyously, faced all worlds.

And then my heart was filled with gratitude, with thankfulness, and went out in love:

To all the heroes, the thinkers, who gave their lives for the liberty of hand and brain
For the freedom of labor and thought
To those who fell on the fierce fields of war
To those who died in dungeons bound with chains
To those who proudly mounted scaffold’s stairs
To those by fire consumed
To all the wise, the good, the brave of every land, whose thoughts and deeds have given freedom to the sons and daughters of men and women

And then I vowed to grasp the torch that they have held, and hold it high, that light may conquer darkness still.

Robert Green Ingersoll
 
RE: Quix's Writing Samples And Other Stuff (Comments welcome)

I felt a little bad today. I received a roleplay request from the only person who's ever dropped a roleplay on me without saying a word. That was about eight months ago. She didn't recall who I was, until I reminded her, and said I wasn't interested because I didn't appreciate being dropped like that. Then, she replied that the reason she did so was because a friend of hers had suddenly passed away. Maybe to say I felt a little bad is an understatement?

On the other hand, she did state in her initial message that she had two long-term roleplays going which had started to slow down in their responses, hence why she was looking now, so there was ample opportunity for her to message me at some stage. As much as I sympathise for the loss of her friend, to receive an apology, or acknowledgement, only after she randomly ran into me, came across as a little hollow. Dropping a roleplay, regardless of circumstance, without communicating it to my partner first, is just something I've never done, and never will do. For any future roleplay partners, rest assured that if I ever don't reply for more than a week or so, I'm not ignoring you. I'm either dead, or at the very least, in Hospital.

As well as feeling bad, also a little sad that one of my favourite ever roleplays, and the only one I've done on thread, isn't, I think, going to continue, due to my partner having real-life commitments, and not being online for over two weeks. It's ridiculous how much I (and others - I'm looking at you, Mali!) miss it. It's rare you find a partner who's on exactly the same page in regards to a scene, and we were both looking forward to providing some extremely provocative entertainment. I'll leave it another couple of weeks, then re-open the plot to see if anyone else is interested. Female serial-killers are thin on the ground.

Which leads to the other thing on my mind. Does anyone else get curious about those people who appear, make a heap of posts on the board, then just as suddenly disappear after a month or so, never to be seen again? I want to know what happens to them!
 
RE: Quix's Writing Samples And Other Stuff (Comments Welcome)

I empathize about the dropped role play. When it happens to me, I try to accept when people drop role plays or take a long time to respond with out getting angry. But you're totally appropriate in not picking up an ice-cold role play or starting a new role play with someone who dropped you without a word if that's your decision. A role play has to work for both parties.

As for people who vanish, too many possible reasons to guess. I suspect many return at a later date. Others get caught up in a new relationship, get depressed, return to swing dancing, or just get caught up in some aspect of life. I had one person I started a role play with who quit BMRP after confessing to his wife that he was doing erotic role play and she said, "No." At least that was the slightly incoherent explanation given. God, if he comes back and reads this, I'll feel a little embarrassed. So I'll let him know here that I understood and no hard feelings. And my own goal if I take a break later will be to let people know via my status what's going on.

Nice journal post! Thought provoking.
 
RE: Quix's Writing Samples And Other Stuff (Comments Welcome)



I've been here, done that far too many times for my liking. Unfortunately, RPs just drop sometimes. Not to say it's a fun feeling by any stretch of imagination. Far from it, if anything. But for the most part, I tend to deal with it in my own ways. But Jolie has a really good point; RPs getting dropped can happen for a variety of reasons. There are some with more justified ones, thankfully, and others who just up and vanish without any word or warning. The latter are always the more frustrating ones, yeah. But .. que cera, cera, you know?

Hope that helps. I've peeked at your search thread quite a few times and you look like an amazing writer; maybe too much for me. But yeah, hope this assists you in some form or fashion.

-Esyel

​
 
RE: Quix's Writing Samples And Other Stuff (Comments Welcome)

Thanks for the comments, guys. (I'm really bad at doing that breaking up quotes thing, so that I can respond to individual parts. It would take me like three hours, so I won't even try, XD).

Jolie, I'd be curious to know whose decision it was for your married partner to stop using the site. The thing that strikes me as a little strange is that someone married would just randomly decide to start writing erotic roleplays in the first place. Oh, and I'd be very interested in that 'dark three part series' you mention in your own Journal.

In regards to both your comments, it's not so much the dropping of a roleplay that worries me, I've had to do it a few times and had it done to me - the worst was with a partner where the story had been going six months, but I couldn't stay involved with it, or gather the motivation to write a response, and I had to tell her -, but the lack of communication. It's not as if someone wouldn't even use the internet for six months, and I tend to do things on 'principle' - sometimes cutting off my nose to spite my face - so with the one I mentioned, it's the lack of what I consider common courtesy that put me in the frame of mind to respond as I did. I realise that it's a miniscule issue, compared to real-life events, but still, when I start a story with someone, I've made some type of commitment to do the right thing by them, and I feel a responsibility to honour commitments, no matter how big or small they may be.

Esyel, thanks for the kind comments. I don't consider myself a great writer, definitely not more so than you, gathered from what I'm seen of your posts. I think the thing is, people have no idea the time and effort it actually takes me to compose and finish just one post. Very rarely do they flow from my brain to my fingertips.

As for people appearing then disappearing, that all makes sense. I just have an innate curiosity, and hate not being able to discover the answer when a question enters my mind!

Now for something lighter, a few quotes from Winston Churchill. My kind of guy:

"A modest man, who has much to be modest about." (Referring to Clement Attlee)

"A sheep in sheep’s clothing." (Referring to Ramsay MacDonald)

"He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire." (Referring to Sir Stafford Cripps)

"If you wanted nothing done at all, Balfour was the man for the job." (Referring to Arthur Balfour)

Lady Nancy Astor: "Winston, if I were your wife, I’d poison your tea."
Churchill: "Nancy, if I were your husband, I’d drink it

Bessie Braddock: "Sir, you are drunk."
Churchill: "And you, madam, are ugly. But in the morning, I shall be sober."

Young man (after seeing Churchill leave the bathroom without washing his hands): "At Eton they taught us to wash our hands after using the toilet."
Churchill: "At Harrow they taught us not to piss on our hands."

Churchill: "Madam, would you sleep with me for five million pounds?"
Woman: "My goodness, Mr. Churchill… Well, I suppose… we would have to discuss terms, of course…"
Churchill: "Would you sleep with me for five pounds?"
Woman: "Mr. Churchill, what kind of woman do you think I am?"
Churchill: "Madam, we’ve already established that. Now we are haggling about the price."

MP: "Mr Churchill, must you fall asleep while I'm speaking?
Churchill: "No, it's purely voluntary."
 
RE: Quix's Writing Samples And Other Stuff (Comments Welcome)



I probably (very likely in fact) have some better examples/posts from my first account. Still, thanks all the same.

Ahh, I hear you. I've also been there. It's really irritating when the inspiration just vanishes, especially if you didn't want it to do so in the beginning. Sometimes though, that just ... occurs much like RPs halting. It's one of those uncontrollable things that tends to happen; or so I've noticed.

Heh, fair. Sometimes the unknown answers to questions are the ones that can grab our (mine at least) attention more than what we already can guess or know. Maybe it's just the Psychology I'm in the midst of learning but I'm willing to bet a bit of our subconscious comes into play with our curiosity and desires.

Those are some interesting quotes from Churchill. From what I learned about him in school, he was definitely a good man indeed. That last one is certainly ... interesting. It made me smirk and chuckle for certain. Thanks for posting them up!

-Esyel

​
 
RE: Quix's Random Musings

No problem at all., I've perused your threads and posts as well. I think I recall your old account now.

It is irritating, particularly when you've had a roleplay going that long, and developed a 'friendship' of sorts, and don't want to let the other person down. It's also hard if one is still totally into the scene, but the other isn't.

I think so, and my MBTI/personality type is one that has a 'need for information', and I like to know why people do things - what caused it, what's the reason behind their actions? - which I think bleeds into my preference for character-driven stories. My Father's also a journalist, so it's his trade, and I believe that dislike for unanswered questions was passed on to me. Psychology would be an extremely interesting field to study.

I added one at the end, I think possibly after the one you're referring to, XD.
 
RE: Quix's Writing Samples And Other Stuff (Comments Welcome)



Oh? Do you now? That's only intriguing because I haven't really hinted to anyone this is actually someone's second account. Well, not to anyone online. Offline via messengers, some know who I used to be here. So it's interesting you're hinting I've somehow made it obvious of who I really am. xD

Granted, I have repeated some of my 'habits' even on this account but .. still. Didn't think it was obvious.

Mhm, very understandable between the loss of inspiration and why you prefer story-based RPs.

Oh yes. Psychology has been an amazing and very fun subject to learn. It's almost sad that the course is about to end but, alas, all things must as the old saying goes. Needless to say, I've thoroughly enjoyed it.

.... Heh. I suppose you did. Fine the first to last one then.

-Esyel

​
 
RE: Quix's Writing Samples And Other Stuff (Comments Welcome)

"I'd be curious to know whose decision it was for your married partner to stop using the site. The thing that strikes me as a little strange is that someone married would just randomly decide to start writing erotic roleplays in the first place."

Some people just need an outlet they are not getting from their partner. I've known people who were really into a specific kink and would NEVER bring it up with their partner, but like an itch it needs to be scratch so this becomes an outlet for that. That has been my experience at least.
 
RE: Quix's Writing Samples And Other Stuff (Comments Welcome)

Mr Quixotic said:
Jolie, I'd be curious to know whose decision it was for your married partner to stop using the site. The thing that strikes me as a little strange is that someone married would just randomly decide to start writing erotic roleplays in the first place.
Click to expand...

What he wrote me was,

"Greetings,

I need to drop out of this roleplay. My wife does not want me to do these things ...."

He mentioned several other things that had led to his decision and how he wanted to focus more on his family. While I didn't know he was married,I don't know if it would have played any role in my decision to enter into a role play with the individual. He was one of my very first role play partners here and had read one of my ideas when he reached out to me. He was always appropriate in our /ooc and did his best in our in character communications. I had no problem with his decision to stop and wish him the best. That's all I know =)

Mr Quixotic said:
Oh, and I'd be very interested in that 'dark three part series' you mention in your own Journal.
Click to expand...

Oh I probably was too mysterious for my own good in that post =) But I did expand on that particularl series probably too much now in my own journal.

Mr Quixotic said:
Esyel, thanks for the kind comments. I don't consider myself a great writer, definitely not more so than you, gathered from what I'm seen of your posts. I think the thing is, people have no idea the time and effort it actually takes me to compose and finish just one post. Very rarely do they flow from my brain to my fingertips.
Click to expand...

But you are a very strong writer. And when you choose, you have a wonderful, fresh and biting sense of humor than almost always brings a grin to my face. I think what keeps me from being a "really good writer" is just what you mention, putting in the time to tighten and structure your writing. I can tell that you do this routinely.

Whereas I, write very fast whatever comes to my mind and then do a quick pass or two to clean up.

Mr Quixotic said:
Now for something lighter, a few quotes from Winston Churchill.
Click to expand...

Love your Churchill Quotes.

winston-churchill-11.jpg
 
RE: Quix's Writing Samples And Other Stuff (Comments Welcome)

boyo111 said:
Some people just need an outlet they are not getting from their partner. I've known people who were really into a specific kink and would NEVER bring it up with their partner, but like an itch it needs to be scratch so this becomes an outlet for that. That has been my experience at least.
Click to expand...

I agree, Boyo, and I think it can be a good outlet, if handled appropriately. A lot of my curiousity comes from the mechanics of what happens, particularly where there's the dynamic of a relationship involved. Did he just randomly stumble across the site, and think "I'm going to do some erotic roleplay? Had he seen it before and it took him a while to join? Was it something he'd done previously, and was looking to get back into? Was it for the writing, or was he looking for an outlet to explore a kink, etc."

Jolie said:
What he wrote me was,

"Greetings,

I need to drop out of this roleplay. My wife does not want me to do these things ...."

He mentioned several other things that had led to his decision and how he wanted to focus more on his family. While I didn't know he was married,I don't know if it would have played any role in my decision to enter into a role play with the individual. He was one of my very first role play partners here and had read one of my ideas when he reached out to me. He was always appropriate in our /ooc and did his best in our in character communications. I had no problem with his decision to stop and wish him the best. That's all I know =)
Click to expand...

I think I answered a little of that above. I don't worry about if anyone is married, or not (most of the time I have no clue, and don't ask). I just take the view that we're all adults, and it's up to them to decide/work out with their partner if they should be on here or not.

Jolie said:
Oh I probably was too mysterious for my own good in that post =) But I did expand on that particularl series probably too much now in my own journal.
Click to expand...

Yes, as you can see from my previous posts, I hate not knowing something, although just the title alone would have been enough to satiate my curiosity. However, I did appreciate all the additional information provided in your journal post :)

Jolie said:
But you are a very strong writer. And when you choose, you have a wonderful, fresh and biting sense of humor than almost always brings a grin to my face. I think what keeps me from being a "really good writer" is just what you mention, putting in the time to tighten and structure your writing. I can tell that you do this routinely.

Whereas I, write very fast whatever comes to my mind and then do a quick pass or two to clean up.
Click to expand...

I think my sense of humour works best with those who have a similar one, or an affinity for sarcasm, and I enjoy yours as well. Intelligence and wit is a great combination, and it's definitely amused me more than a few times. A lot of people, both in writing, and real-life, take me as being serious, when, in fact, I'm joking. I tend to reflect the 'tone' of the person I'm conversing with.

As for my writing, I appreciate that. I'm rather self-critical, and also it doesn't come naturally because of the way my brain's wired. I don't think/learn/work in logical sequences, so my ideas spill out randomly, then it takes a concerted effort to put them in order, and structure them in a way which makes sense to others. It takes at least four passes, you should see my original drafts! That's why, to me, my writing can occasionally come off as 'stilted'. It took me five days to get a response back to a partner, which I sent yesterday, then three hours later, I receive a two thousand word reply. I was like, "Stop it! You do that on purpose just to stress me." (Which she freely admits is the case, XD). The strange thing, however, is that when it comes to making smart-ass or sarcastic retorts/comments, they pop into my head without conscious effort.

As for yours, I enjoy your posts/writing. Everything just seems to flow naturally, and it reads that way to me. I think it's great.

Jolie said:
Love your Churchill Quotes.
Click to expand...

I do appreciate a man (or woman) capable of witty insults/comebacks.

573850ec68ec923fb735d755d2bb1499.jpg
 
RE: Quix's Writing Samples And Other Stuff (Comments Welcome)

Mr Quixotic said:
boyo111 said:
Some people just need an outlet they are not getting from their partner. I've known people who were really into a specific kink and would NEVER bring it up with their partner, but like an itch it needs to be scratch so this becomes an outlet for that. That has been my experience at least.
Click to expand...

I agree, Boyo, and I think it can be a good outlet, if handled appropriately. A lot of my curiousity comes from the mechanics of what happens, particularly where there's the dynamic of a relationship involved. Did he just randomly stumble across the site, and think "I'm going to do some erotic roleplay? Had he seen it before and it took him a while to join? Was it something he'd done previously, and was looking to get back into? Was it for the writing, or was he looking for an outlet to explore a kink, etc."
Click to expand...

Sometimes you never know, I came across this as a place to keep playing now that time restrictions have caused me to not game as much. I like the writing aspect more and want to improve that, which needing a reason to practice brought me here. Others? Who knows. Though guessing from what you have said about needing to know may be something that will nag you since a lot of times life happens. No reason, no rationale, you just move on.
 
RE: Quix's Writing Samples And Other Stuff (Comments Welcome)

I had no idea who Robert Ingersoll was until I ran across him in your signature. Words of truth in the quotes above. Nice post!
 
RE: Quix's Writing Samples And Other Stuff (Comments Welcome)

Karl Marx? Nah, I'm more in the mood for Groucho.

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