Werewolves, Vampires and Crooks (F looking for takers)

Maeve · July 01, 2015, 01:21:14 AM

Greetings! Thank you for stopping by.

I have a collection of loose ideas that I would love to develop into full blown plots. You may notice that some of them seem vague or drop off in description. This is done on purpose as I want to hear your ideas on where you want to take the plot, otherwise, I would just write the story myself.

Most of them involve some sort of dub-non, non-con or power play, you know the kind of fantasy that should not occur in real life. Should this not be to your liking but you still like the tale, I am more than willing to rework it to your comfort level. A few of them have legal age play (meaning she's 16-18 and he/she is 25-45) and some of them are supernaturally based.

I don't care whether you are male or female or which gender you would like to play. I am willing to play either for most stories and have no issue changing the gender of the character you chose.

I have also been craving Alpha/Omega or soul identifying marks stories for some time, so feel free to add that element to any story below.

I only play in thread and as long as the story remains enjoyable I have no preference for paragraph length.

I'm big on plot over porn. Don't get me wrong, I'm here for the porn but college student seducing her professor for a good grade, doesn't do it for me. I want a story, character development, an arc, and good dialogue. I'm ok with our RP being like a novel. Complete with side characters, inner monologues and detailed descriptions. Good plot=Good porn. This being said, every post doesn't have to be the length of a novel, just don't be shy about throwing in characters and giving your character motivations outside of wanting to bang my character.

Should you lose interest in our rp: first off please let me know. We'll see if there's a way to spice things up and if not a way for us to part on good terms. Second, if you have not posted in a month, I will contact you and see what is going on. I've been there myself, you have a loss of inspiration for the story, want to take a break or life has become a madhouse. Just let me know. If you have not responded and another month passes, I will suspect that our story has ended and remove the taken title from any stories on this thread and try again. Real life always comes first. Should I lose interest in our story, I will let you know. Otherwise I don't abandon stories, I just take my time.

If you are interested in participating in any of the following tales, please pm me. None of these are sorted or catalogued. I probably should, but honestly this thread is more a stream of consciousness then anything else. Should the story you're on not be to your liking, I suggest just skipping to the next one as it may be a completely different kettle of fish. Plots that I am craving are marked as such, same with taken.

On to the sordid little stories!

1) A Tale of Werewolves -

The car sped down the country road on a moonless night. The only sound the clink when he chucked another road beer out the window and the screams coming from the trunk. He cracked open another one and hoped her Daddy wasn't on his trail.

Staring at the uncaring metal of the clunker Zoe knew it was pointless and that she was losing her voice. She frantically tried to remember every tip from all those after school specials her mom had made her watch when she was going though her stranger danger paranoia. Nothing was coming to mind and she screamed again in frustration. Her mom had made her go over them like homework;how to bust out the taillight in a car and wave, how to break out of duct tape and cuffs, or how to tell how far they had been driving. All she remembered was to keep making noise, the higher pitched the better.

'Your pack will find you,' her mother had said, like she was praying. Like it took her five years to realize that her human child was more vulnerable then her lupine babies. Even with the ever present danger, like the situation she found herself in now, Zoe had not been allowed the bite. You would never find her sisters in this mess.

'Packs need their human members," Her father, another werewolf, had told her. For years it was described in flowery language: the human element held packs together, they were the ones to safeguard the balance between the beast and and angel, and her favorite, that they were the packs heart. When she was fifteenth her cousin had told her with a leer that it was for breeding. That without the occasional human bitch to whelp pups the bloodline would produce creatures that could no longer turn into men.

He wiped the beer from his mouth and gave out a rebel yell. He was almost over the border line and then they couldn't touch him. Fuck em. High and mighty pack. Thinking it had the right to wipe out his kin, just cause they set up a few meth labs and ripped up a few locals. Humans were livestock, made to be used, abused and profited from.

Course they did have their redeeming features. Like the bitch in the trunk. Her daddy killed off his pack, well he would just have to use the man's daughter to create a new one.

Maeve · July 01, 2015, 01:25:23 AM

2)Precious Child -

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

There is virus that is wiping out the remaining vampire population. Many speculate that it's the hunters lazily turning to bio-warfare or that rival clans had unleashed a weapon neither could control.

Most of the surviving vampires are starving and the few that aren't risk exposure with every bite. All seemed lost. The virus spread like the flu and lingered hidden in it's human host.

Then hope, there was a way to detect whether a human was a carrier but a series of not so simple tests.

Those vampires with means now had their blood screened from hospitals or purchase their own clean feeders.

Even still there is no cure and those who can't afford alternatives pay by the pint for bleeders, hookers that specialize in suck and fuck but in theory are screened by private clinics every month.

Lali's family has been doing it for generations, even before the virus. Her great-grandmother had been attacked and survived, when the surprised vampire had paid triple the next time she knew that she had hit pay dirt. Turned out the vampire had friends. Some had even sworn off killing and required weekly sessions. Lali's grandmother retired well and steered her daughter into the same venture.

With the increase in demand her mother is overloaded and amount of orange juice could make up the difference. Even her grandmother has gotten back into the game.

One night when she was tapped Lali's mother grabbed her daughter and offered up her vein. The client who was with her grandmother seeing that there was younger meat on offer argued that he should have her. They proceeded to fight with the original winning. The second, being a sore loser, killed her mother and her grandmother. It took Lali years to realize that he would have killed her too if it hadn't been for her captor.

Without thinking he had grabbed her. His original thought was to drop her off at a police station. He needed a crying kid like he needed a garlic flavored stake to the heart. But he wasn't the kind of immortal with an investment portfolio. He hadn't been able to afford a feeder, until one was dropped in his lap that is. So, he stole her and raised her as his own.

To his own credit he never touched her. Drawing blood from her like she a patient, with a rubber hose and a needle. Even still it's been a decade. He can't help but notice how she was filling out, the beauty of her smile no longer childish, or how she looks at him...

This idea has kinda become a Juggernaut. Any vampire (or werewolf story for the most part) in this thread you can assume is part of the same universe. Meaning, if you like they can all interplay with each other or reference each other.

Alternative takes on 'Precious Child'

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

Instead of a virus, it could be post-Apocalypse. Most humans either live in sheltered compounds or are treated like cattle in Vampire dens. He finds a family crashed on the side of the road, likely in search of a safe place, and he rescues her as the sole survivor. (Could tie in with Werewolves of the Wastes or Air's Fine When You Grow Gills)

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

Or could be that the vampire is a talented inventor but ran afoul of the authorities. He's banished to a mountain stronghold and told to continue his projects. Given that there are no peasants for him to snack on they send him three generations of a maternal line, whom the guards eat two of on the way there, leaving only the daughter. CRAVING

3)

I don't know how many people have seen Okane ga nai. I am not that into anime but I like the basic story idea and would love to do something similar. CRAVING

Maeve · July 01, 2015, 01:44:26 AM

4) A Sort of Survival -

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

Unabashedly an AU of 28 Days Later, similar circumstance, different characters. This can either be one and one with both of us playing different characters or a small group.

Charlotte works at the local Humane Society when the Infected take over. Having no family, she decides to bunker down at the shelter once things get really hairy. She stays there, keeping the door bared and the fence secured as she waits for the humanitarian crisis to pass.

It doesn't.

She's running out of food and so are the animals.

Before desperation can kick in a miracle happens. The radio blares a message about a safe haven for the survivors. She releases the animals that can fend for themselves, as it's been proven that the Infected only go after other humans and loads up those that can't in their van.

She heads towards what she thinks is salvation. What she finds is seven soldiers on the brink of madness who salivate at the sight of her at an abandoned country manor.

There are two choices presented to her, accept her new life or have it thrust upon her. She's told she's wise when she sets up her own schedule and chooses the master suite. She gets every other day off, and the men get some comfort once every two weeks.

Things go as well as can be expected. She sets up the agriculture on the manor, including a chicken coup. The men are less crazed and everything is settling into an easy rhythm. Until they showed up.

Two more women. On the surface it would look like a good thing. Take some off of Charlotte's plate, but these two are not as willing as she nor the men that willing to wait.

Feb 29, 2016 - Update! This one is now a group game. Should it tickle your fancy please check out these two links:
https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=243062.0 & https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=234769.0

Maeve · July 01, 2015, 02:00:52 AM

5) Good Girl

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

This was just too much. There had never been any doubts even from the beginning that they were after a teen aged gang of criminals, but that the most talented lock picker under thirty in the business worked at a pet store? He's been doing this job a long time and he had never seen a crook with a day job.

But here was his little pixie, cleaning up ferret shit and scooping out dead fish. He would be the first to admit he had somewhat of a crush on his prey. He had been tracking her for months, since their little gang of mensa maniacs had started pulling big gigs. Really big gigs. So far they had made off with 70,000 grand in cash, jewels and experimental technology and their heists were only getting more daring.

At first he chocked it up to her being the only constant woman in his life. Pathetic as that might appear. He hadn't dated in years, not since he caught his last girlfriend in bed with his partner. After that he didn't see much point.

Later he had to admit that it was just her, that she was something special. It always brought a smile to his face when he saw the crime photo's. His little Pixie wore a Pantalone mask. She was obviously smart, talented, with a stinging sense of humor. The mask was normally worn by men, and along with her sheared head she had many in the department convinced that she was actually a he. But he knew better, she Wendy among the lost boys and today he was Captain Hook determined to take her away.

The plot had been cooked up by his captain. She was the glue, their informant had told the, remove her and watch the gang crumble. His plan was simple, they had enough to charge her and send her away to prison for along time. Or she could go into witness protection. Didn't even need to flip on her comrades, just start a new life as someone else. Course she wouldn't know until too late, nor would the department, that that new life meant his cabin upstate.

He would have to get the electric fence fortified and a new collar. He didn't think the one he had for the old hound would fit her.

"May I help you find anything?" She asked him, her tone bordering on harsh. Couldn't blame her, he had been stalking her around the store for 20 minutes or so.

"I'm sorry ma'm?"

"Are you looking for a pet?"

A slow lazy smile spread over his face.

"Why yes, yes I am."

I was inspired to do a slight twist on this story. Blame this image!

Rather than the male antagonist being a cop, he's a rival thief/crime boss. After almost two years of her and her gang making life difficult for him, whether she's trying to come up in the underworld or is a Robin Hood figure, he finally has her and intends to use her in every profitable way.

I'm open to playing either or both.

Maeve · July 07, 2015, 10:58:11 PM

This is another werewolf story and it uses the same lore as A Tale of Werewolves. As far as I'm concerned they exist in the same universe, and this story may be referenced in ATOW. Same as A Sort of Survival, this one can be 1x1 playing multiple parts or a small group.

Wolves of Fortune-

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

The early 1500's were a chaotic time. Some say that Devil rules in Rome, a New World full of possibilities has been found and mercenaries threaten to topple what little stability is left in plague and famine ridden Europe.

There are many of these bands of roving warriors, never lacking employment as warring nations and city states battle their neighbors. Most are soldiers left without a war or other skills, some are rouges greedy for gold and some simply enjoy killing.

Then there are the Lupi di Fortuna. One of the fiercest, most cunning mercenary bands money can hire. Lupi di Fortuna has yet to call surrender, for surrender means death at the hands of their Alpha. A majority of the members of Werewolves, collected by Aurel from all over Europe and the Orient. He not only promises them gold and a way to relish the beasts of their nature, but paradise. There is a Kingdom beyond the Carpathians that was once ruled by wolves. He claims he is the last royal from this lupine line and once their have enough money and an army they will retake his throne. Many of the scattered wolves he finds leap at the chance for a safe homeland but those that have served under Aurel ask what sort of paradise this new Eden will be if it's ruled by a tyrant?

Chola knows that surrender means death for her, like any other soldier. Her battlefield maybe Aurel's bed but it is no less harrowing. Ten years ago she was courtesan in Venice, well known for her skill with the lute and flute until she given as a retainer to the feared warlord. She did need to know of his reputation to know of her fate. All it took was seeing the dead, hollow eyes of the few women in camp.

Luckily for her, music soothes the savage beast. A decade later she saved countless young girls and created a proper harem, filled with musicians and dancers to entertain their lord and master. She had introduced him to all the vices of civilization, born him two human sons and had fallen in love with his most trusted general.

Now, fat with victory and an acquired taste for the finer things, he degrees that it is time to march to his home. Though Chola smiles for him and sings songs of his victory, she finds herself fearing for her fate once more. What use will a werewolf king have for a human whore and human heirs?

His general comforts her with a simple truth: much can change on a long campaign.

Maeve · August 04, 2015, 07:52:19 PM

7) Take the Apple -

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Over Beluga Joe's lustrous mob career there have been many questions. Like how did a talent-less nobody with no connections who pissed his pants at his first robbery turn into the biggest mobster this town has ever seen? How did a man who earned the nickname Beluga more for his waistline that his whale status earn the the utter devotion of a famous French actress? How does a man with little tact command an army of highly talented gangsters?

The answer is he took the apple.

They weren't quite demons, but they certainly weren't guardian angels. They had a little magic and more than enough psychopathy to spare. The only problem was they needed a patsy. Someone to prop up as their leader, as their owner, as their master.

Still smelling of urine Joe had been sobbing in an alley when the well dressed man approached him. Take the apple, he said, and I will give you anything you want. Joe wanted to be more than just the boss of bosses, he wanted to be the god of bosses. Done! Said the man, but our deal is this I will give you what you want now but you will meet a violent end and when you do I will take what I want from you. Joe agreed, thinking it would be his soul.

He was right. As he lay dying in that same alley, smog filled rain falling on his face, he was at peace knowing the bargain was about to be completed. His soul, he would become one of them and they would move on to the next sucker.

Oh no, said the same well dressed man who had not aged a day, I want your soul which does not reside in your body. The horror spread across Joe's face, and blood gurgled from his lips as he tried to plead with them no.

Your soul is your daughter, the man said.

So this story can be played 1X1 with us playing multiple characters or as a small group. The story line concerns said daughter as she finds herself taken prisoner by this magical group. Unlike her father she isn't a bad apple, instead she's a rather sweet girl. This is a very rough idea, could be she's passed around as a toy, the well dressed man has been in love with her since childhood, their next target could try to save her/she tries to save him. Could go one way of her trying to maintain her purity despite everything, or her slow corruption. Send me a message and we'll hammer it out.

If you are interested in making this a multi-player game please check out this link: https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=234774.0

Maeve · August 04, 2015, 09:10:09 PM

8) The Wrong Witch

It was an open secret that Bonatine royal family owed it's fortune to a witch. One that they betrayed and with her dying breath she cursed them. If they wanted their princes to take the throne peacefully just as their father had done they must have a court witch and she must pass several daunting trials. But no witch in their right mind will line up for the job, for they have done everything in their power to alienate those they need most.

The old king is dying and the Prince must find a witch quickly. His father insists on the most powerful in the land. A woman known for her cruel deeds and superb gifts. So the goes on an epic quest to find her, only to find she is a myth. He can't return empty-handed, so instead, he grabs the first village witch he can.

She is known in the area as a cunning woman, a practical witch, one that can deliver healthy babies and cure what ails the cow. Now she is being taken across the land in a cage, praised and reviled at every tavern until they reach the kingdom.

But greater danger awaits. For her magic is not powerful enough to survive the trails, nor her soul the prospect of a life in chains, nor her body the advances of the stern potentate.

Maeve · August 04, 2015, 11:51:29 PM

9) Heir to Darkness -

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She had been Queen of the dead as long as she could remember. Mighty and feared throughout many lands, rich beyond her wildest means and secure in her power. What she lacks is an heir. Since she herself cannot bear a child she searches for the perfect broodmare. She finds her in the temple of the Virgin goddess. Even though it is blasphemy she will not allow anything to stand in her way and steals away the purest of priestesses. Using her dark magic she animates beastly creatures fill the belly of her newest consort.

In this one I am willing to take on either role. Just let me know what gets your motor running.

Maeve · August 14, 2015, 12:12:49 AM

-_-10) An Odd Way of Grieving

This has similar elements to Good Girl, Take the Apple and Precious Child. What can I say, I get stuck on themes.

He had known her since she was child, watched as she grew up neglected and like a weed grew wild.

It should have come as no surprise that he found her doing coke in the men's bathroom at her father's funeral. She was not exactly...grieving. He was, in his way. He had been the mans right hand man for decades. He had given his mind, his muscle, his youth and his honor in that man's dirty deeds. Now that man was gone and there was a void.

Not for long.

Power vacuums are blood in the water and even at the funeral the sharks were circling. His wile and wit were well known he already had several offers, but it was foregone conclusion. Their was another family, equal power who would take over and they had already made their move. It was being kept under wraps for a few more days, for decency's sake.

Luckily for him, he was not of the dead man's blood and would not be put to the sword. Rather like a bard of old, was considered too important and too useful to be put to death.

She would though. If she was lucky it would quick. He watched as she sneezed and the white powder flew like dust across every surface. She was never lucky.

"Why don't we go find you some more?" He asked, holding out his arm. He knew she wouldn't reject him, after all she had known him most of her life.

So it could be that he's made a deal and she's included in it. Or he lies to his new employers and says that he kills her but instead keeps her locked away. Could be he's double crossing the new family in power by keeping her secluded in order for her to produce an heir.

This being said I'm not seeing him as doing anything out of the goodness of his heart, even if he does have a soft spot for her, that only take their relationship so far. Definitely looking at Mr. Gold (not so much Rumpelstiltskin) as inspiration: clever but world weary, not goodness left to share with the world. She is out of control, self destructive, young and angry. Whether they save each other or be the final nail in their coffins is up for discussion.

Lots of ways this one could go, let me know if it inspires.

Maeve · August 19, 2015, 09:07:58 AM

11) Only Politics

It was a new era. The dawn of a new pax vampira. A historic treaty was going to be made between shapeshifters and vampires.

As Ronan took another deep draw from her thigh, Nicole reflected that it didn't feel like a new era. Felt like the same old routine: she made herself pretty and ready for ravaging. She should count herself lucky to belong to this bloodsucker, over some others that kept their stock like cattle. He liked his made up, lounging by the pool and mixing him martini's.

"You know what you have to do?" He asked, after sucking hard enough to leave a bruise.

Nicole nodded, sitting up enough to brush his hair out of his eyes and her blood. She knew what she needed to do, in order to put her permanently in his good graces. Maybe even earn her immortality.

Historic events require historic people and Darian is no exception. He's the youngest Alpha in a 1000 years and one of the major forces for peace. Nicole was counting on his youth, his naivete to succeed in her mission. Turn him to their way of thinking or destroy his cause. Peace might be alright for Werewolves and the like, who have human life spans and true power comes from large stable packs, but for vampires peace means stagnation. Ronan knows that this is his last chance for a power grab. He doesn't mind peace as long as he's King.

This can be done with either two people playing multiple parts or a small group. I'm thinking it's going to end up being a supernatural political romance. Face models can be changed, I chose those two because of the characters they portray and want certain elements of said characters to influence Ronan and Darian. If you would like to take on either role, shoot me a PM.

Maeve · August 29, 2015, 12:52:03 AM

12) Sugar Sugar

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

Bear with me, this one has a slightly odd premise. It came from a dream. Also inspired by this NSFW image.

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

50 year ago a blight wiped out sugar crops, both cane and beet. The world, with it's collective sweet tooth shuddered, but what nature takes away with one hand it gives back with the other. Certain women have mutated, they produce a sweet no calorie substance when sexually excited. Girls that test positive for the mutation are suddenly offered dream jobs far from home and never return. Those that turn down the job are abducted and are simply never heard from again. Everyone knows but no one says anything.

Layla was abducted and has been a pain the ass ever since she arrived. It took a strong hand to get her in line but this said strong hand also warped her sexuality beyond repair. The only way to get her juices flowing is through sado-masochist means. The man who made her thus has moved on to a better job and one of the companies greatest cash cows has dried up. They've searched high and low for his replacement and finally find it in Malcolm.

He's a nice guy, he really is, practically a teddy bear. Not his fault he has certain desires and a dearth of partners. It's why when he meets Layla, already trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, he knows that they're going to get along so well.

Maeve · September 10, 2015, 09:32:15 PM

13) A Cat May Look at a King -

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All Cat could think, as she hid shaking under a turned over table, was that if she ever got through this, she would never do anything naughty again.

She shouldn't have come out with Patsy. Patsy got her in trouble. How a girl like Patsy ended up working for Lord and Lady Somerset was beyond her, but she was a good girl, a decent girl who was worthy to fold their sheets and wash their dishes at their prestigious London home. Her only vice was her addiction to Rock-n-Roll. She didn't even smoke.

It was the Rock-n-Roll that got her out. A new club, very hush hush, Patsy had said with the best new records from America spinning.

It had been wonderful, for about the first 30 minutes. They had gotten gussied up, danced, and she had even had sip of champagne while Patsy lounged at the bar with a guy on each arm.

That was when the men with guns, billy clubs and knives had showed up. Turned out the very hush hush club was in fact owned by a local tough guy and another local guy didn't like him moving in on his turf.

Still is seemed that they were only interested in making a point and robbing the patrons. They would get through this. Patsy and her would get home, go to their bed and she would never let the other girl talk her into anything like this again.

That was until the gangster nearest to her mask slipped from his face and she looked him dead in the eye.

Two ways this could go. It could get dark really quick, where he abducts her so she can't reveal his identity and must decide what to do with her. Or it could be slapstick romantic comedy. People hiding out in closets, gangsters pretending to be lords, that kind of thing.

Maeve · September 19, 2015, 07:40:20 PM

14) Warmth of Strange Fires

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The war was over!

Benedict and his chums were rejoicing. They hadn't served of course, they were just bloody pleased that rationing was over. The feasts could start again! The Balls! The gambling and excess that their city was known for!

Everyone was drunk in their heady rejoicing. They had drunk, fucked and partook of every enlightening substance and entertaining venue they could that day and night. About midnight one of this friends was approached by a fine looking lass from the nearby brothel, advertising a wild hunt.

Their enemy had been old hat, and hated since their founding, but their newest allies were something of a mystery. They were said to be savages, fierce in battle and unafraid of death. They had been defeated all the same but still, these mountain folk, that came from the mists of time were all the rage. It as said that they hunted their women like animals and bit them at the shoulder to proclaim this bitch as their property.

Now this pleasure house claimed they had one and as an amusing diversion would allow fine upstanding young man like himself play the barbarian.

They are all given wine when they enter (and paid) and are surrounded by whores painted up to look like wild women. It is nothing by beautiful women, raucous laughter and free flowing alcohol until she's brought out, struggling and afraid. Then all the men do turn into silent predators. A bell rings and they're off!

The laughter returns as they chase the young girl, nimble as a deer about the richly decorated rooms. They knock over vases and overturn couches, tear down drapes and spill Midera in any desperate bid to get to her. He is the one who corners her though. He is the one who throws her over his shoulder and takes her to a private suite while the others drown their sorrows in the other women.

He expects her to be the same. Just another painted whore drawn up to look like a savage. A bit younger perhaps, a bit fresher but no different then the rest. He expects, as he undresses, for her to grin and say 'You like your tallwacker sucked gov'nor?'. She doesn't, she keeps going on in a strange lilting gibberish and trying to get out. Even when he gets her on the bed she continues her charade, so he decides to play along.

"I forgot my promise didn't I? All the girls want a sign of commitment," he drunkenly laughed, before sinking his teeth into the junction of her neck and shoulder. She stilled then and let him do as he pleased. He took it as a sign of his prowess's that she clung to him afterwards and cried in confusion when he left her in the morning.

Know thy enemy.

He begins to dream of craggy mountains, of nights spent beside fires in boon companionship, of the smell of great evergreens and cold air. He wakes and reaches out for someone else. He cries at the oddest moments. His once joyful demeanor becomes one of constant sorrow. His friends decide he needs something to cheer him. They take him out on the town, again and again until they end back at the same brothel.

He didn't remember it when he walked in. It was another gilded whorehouse. He feels lackluster and plunks into a chair, watching the girls as they go about their work uninterested in their charms.

A tray crashes and a man begins shouting. A girl responds in a strange lilting gibberish and he turns to look at her. No more painted body in straps of leather, the mountain people and noble savages are very out of vogue these days, instead she's dressed in white lack with her hair done in curls. She looks like any other strumpet except for the vibrant red make on her shoulder, peaking out beneath the white.

He stops the man from stiking her and gathers her up in his arms. He smiles for the first time in weeks and feels a contentment he's never known before.

The bite, the mating bite, isn't a mark of property; it's the entwining of two souls.

Whatever will his wife and mother say?

Maeve · October 08, 2015, 10:44:05 PM

Formless has created an extremely inspiring thread. Use in moderation, you'll go to look at the pretty pictures and end up spending the day dreaming up plots. It's happened to me more than once and now I would like to share them, in hopes that they will inspire someone else enough to want to rp them with me.

The Odd Companion

She's had so many brushes with death, she no longer keeps count. Whether it's a hot shot, a john with really bad intentions or just a cold night, she's wandered across into the unknown country so often she no longer knows how she keeps coming back home. It's a lonely road, that line between the living and the damned and it's shrouded in a deep fog. So deep, she didn't realize that she wasn't walking alone anymore.

Have no idea where I want to take this one. You're ideas are as good as mine.

Maeve · October 09, 2015, 12:11:16 AM

Lingua Franka

They don't understand each other. Their motives, their pasts, their souls and even their languages are a mystery. They have never laid eyes on each other until they are brought together by a person whose face they never see.

But you know what they say: give a man a mask and he'll tell you the truth.

They all have their reasons. They are jilted lovers, wronged family, disposed royalty, or abused serfs. They all have their reasons to hate the lord of the manor. On this night, because of the masked man, on this summer solstice that is traditionally celebrated by a masquerade, they will have their revenge.

This can either be us playing multiple characters or in a small group. I'm thinking it's all going to take place in one night with lots of flashbacks to exactly why they are there.

Maeve · October 09, 2015, 07:21:58 AM

Arcane Politics

They had been fairy tales too long. She for one was tired of being a urban legend and was ready to scream from the rooftops that she is witch, powerful and wise. She's not alone either, many others of supernatural persuasion are tired of hiding in the shadows and wish to be recognized, but for every one of them there is another who believe that they should stay exactly where they are.

The debate has been going on for a century or so. Now it has come to a head. Honestly how are you supposed to hide in a world with camera phones and Youtube? She fully supports any who wish to step into the light.

Then one of them that does is brutally in an alley and every belief she holds dear is held in question.

As an outspoken advocate of exposure it should come as no surprise that she is one of those tasked with finding out the truth of the murder. Her partner is one of her most outspoken critics.

"Now if we went public," she told him, standing over the mutilated corpse of her brethren, "When this shit happens we could call the cops."

"What's next?" The Fey scoffed, "Paying taxes?"

Maeve · October 09, 2015, 08:06:19 AM

No Heralds For Bastards

These images inspired two different stories, let me know if either one of them, in turn, inspires you.

She had spent a summer out of a dream. Her prince was everything her fairy tales had told her he would be; brave, gallant, kind and handsome. Their wedding would be at Christmas when she came of age, and she would start the new year as the crowned heir to the Duchy. Until then it was endless warm months of morning rides, afternoon entertainments, and midnight balls. She was infatuated with her to be husband, as he was with her.

Their chaste passion was the talk of the kingdom and adoring crowds gather to see the young couple. It is golden summer about to give birth to a new golden age.

Their happiness lasts only as long as the winds stay warm. The first breath of autumn holds death in its lungs and her young love is its first victim. With him dies their promised paradise and the once chivalrous court becomes a pack of snarling dogs. With a heavy heart, the Lord knows what he must do and invites his bastard boy back to his family home.

He had been thrown out years ago, when he had tried to usurp his younger but legitimate brother. Now they are welcoming him back with open arms, so he by his tainted blood could restore order.

As he rode to the castle he tried not to take too much offense that there were no crowds to greet him and no fanfare to mark his approach. Didn't matter really, they may not adore him but they will give him everything that belonged to his brother because a bastard is better than chaos.

The only person he saw on his way to his new domain is a young girl, wading into a cold lake. He didn't think twice about taking off his heavy coat and diving into the black water. -CRAVING. I have so many ideas for this one and most of them are fully formed. If you are interested I would like to keep the story in the spirit, if not the flesh of the original. https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=239777.0

She had been ruling, and ruling well, for three years before her deceased father's ministers managed to stage a coup. It was all very civil. They merely informed her that they had found a long lost cousin who could rule in her stead. Better someone with only a mere drop of noble blood than a bastard daughter.

The fact that he was male didn't hurt either.

They told her that this would be good for her. That the weight of such an unnatural task for a woman must have been crippling for her. That now she return to her proper place in society.

She didn't want to find out what exactly they meant by that. Instead she walked as regally as she could into the cold waters of the lake.

"The prospect of marriage to me surely can't be that unappealing?"

She turned back to stare at a man that looked like he made his profession as a highwayman. Was this their idea of returning her to her proper place?

Maeve · October 09, 2015, 08:38:34 AM

Borrowed Morals

The hunt was on.

It had been a long deep winter where even the moon slumbered. Beasts had crept down from the mountains, driven by their hungers. She had been one of of them, and since she had taken to stealing from the great houses had taken refuge in her human form.

Most of her kind do the same, except for a few. Those slaughter sheep and the children that guard them, even though it is expressly forbidden.

As Mirabelle watched the men ready their horses and their guns, she remembered why. Most of the wolves that will die today are innocent, including her kin unless she can sniff out those among them that are true killers.

He knows what she is as soon as he lays eyes on her. He's been doing this for a long time and making a pretty penny at it. If he was ever once what his songs say about him, it was a long time ago. Now he just wants to make his money quick and feast on whatever their provinces have to offer. Normally he just has to kill a few wolves and be on his way.

Not this time. The killings are increasing in number and their boldness. It's not just a wolf, it's a loup garou and the best way to track it is by using one of their own.

Maeve · October 16, 2015, 04:31:06 PM

15) Unusual Parentage

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

I have to thank Becky Ann for the inspiration for this story. The basic premise is a young girl is impregnated by a woman hiding the fact that she has a working set of male genitalia. Unfortunately she had already found a partner before I could throw my hat in the ring, but was kind enough to let me try to find my own partner for this story. I would be taking on the role of the hermaphrodite.

Livia is above all was a private person. Never mind that she had a certain hidden gift, she was also cursed by her late parents. They had been well off and amassed a small fortune and a grand house in their small New England town despite or maybe because of their severe religious views. They had thought that Livia was a sign of their sins and had never let her forget it.

Livia for her part not only lived up to their expectations but outdid them. She was a grand freak and as soon as she could she escaped to the city on the arm of a rich man with certain proclivities. She had spent her childhood hiding her deformity and in retaliation had spent her youth in a debauched show of it. It was wild ride. Then it ended. He died, leaving her nothing and she once again had to rely on her parents. In return for caring for them in their infirmary they would leave her their fortune. They had been true to their word, with a certain caveat.

She had to stay in that small rural town or lose every cent. So began the next stage of her life; forced respectability. She disdained the entire town of mundane, hum drum provincials and her prison. The only relief she found was when she played her piano.

It hadn't even come to attention that she had new neighbors until they knocked on her door. They had heard her playing, they said and wondered whether she gave lessons. She was about to give them a taste of why locals called her an evil witch until she saw Tess, hanging off the elbow of her father in her school uniform with a sad sort of detached rebellion. Before she knew it she agreed to teach the girl three times a week after school and as she closed the door she smiled for the first time since moving back home.

Maeve · November 10, 2015, 01:58:40 PM

Chameleons Cannot Dream

They're called Chameleons because they can be anything one needed: soldiers, laborers, guards or servants, if the price is right. The alchemist who created them made them out of bits of this and bits of that, and while they may look human they do not have the messy bits that makes the normal workforce at time difficult to control.

He's made quite the name for himself with hodgepodge men. Then the Duke for which he currently serves is betrayed by his mistress and asks the alchemist to make him a woman that would be ever loyal.

He's makes a creature beautiful beyond compare. So beautiful that the sight of her stirs one of his other creations to see pictures when he sleeps. Images of them walking together, talking together, making love as he had seen those beings that look like him but are not him do. From that day there's an ache in his chest.

It only grows when he's assigned to watch over her.

Maeve · November 14, 2015, 07:51:32 PM

16) The Airs Fine Once You Grow Gills

This might be some tricky territory, as it's only semi my idea but since none of this is for money I say lets have fun. Before I rped here I was over in SL, where one of the lands I played in was Toxian City. I've been itching to slip back into the character I created over there. Full disclaimer the origin of Toxic City is not my idea, nor are many of the characters I have outlined here. However I have changed their names and several key aspects of their character in order to streamline a story. In fact with a few exceptions I toned down the key players so that if someone is interested they can put own spin on them. The end result is a skewed reflection, with the only bits left whole being what I created in the game. Finally this would probably work best as an rp with several players, however I am somewhat swamped at the moment and cannot take on another multiplayer game. That being said if one of the characters calls out to you, we can do a oneshot and if that goes well feel free to reserve that character.

Believe it or not this town was once a nice place to live. Business was good for a while. So good the town had a fancy opera house, swell library and everything that a cultured gent could ask for. It had the air of a mythical island. In fact Vanity Fair called it the new Atlantis. Turns out that was like calling the Titanic unsinkable.

No one is sure exactly what happened. One morning started out like any other, people going about their lives and then suddenly a green cloud descended and all hell broke loose. Some people say literally. The new Atlantis was no more, though some people say they still see it from their safe shoreline, still wrapped in that thick green fog with wicked looking lightening whipping it like a fury.

It wasn't much better for those poor souls left. Many of them died in the intial...whatever it was. More soon afterwards from an unknown plague. Those that survived found themselves hunted by new residents: vampires, werewolves, and others no one can quite pin down.

Sassy didn't live here before 'the event'. Her pimp thought he killed her one night and she washed up on shore. With only the clothes on her back she picked up where she left off, only she found her clients had very specific needs besides the obvious. Like werewolves offering to pay her in chocolate for her kneecaps. Needless to say, its kinda hard to run when a wolf man is ripping apart your joints. While the hospitals there didn't take chocolate insurance, the nice cybernetic nurses would fix her up for the experience of dealing with human anatomy.

They didn't do half bad either, after three days Sassy walked out with new knees and an addiction to little purple pills. They weren't kidding about needing the experience though. When they patched her up they wired her wrong. Now she could cum just by someone sucking on her earlobe and it took her brain about ten minutes to realize that she was in pain. A handy trait as it turned out when her other clients included Nekos, whose Toms had barbs at the end of their cocks, or Vampires who liked to penetrate her twice over.

She would later learn that when one was sick or injured here, they didn't go to the hospital. They went to the magic shop and let the magic doers fix them up. They even did cosmetic surgery, like turning normal human blood into something sweeter with a higher nutritional content. While Sassy didn't really like the idea of turning herself into a juice box it did surge her sales. As a bonus, for watching her first girl on girl, the woman doing spell tossed rapid healing. It was the only perk to this place Sassy figured, she might have been in hell but at least her two packs a day wouldn't kill her.

There were still plenty of other things lining up for a go though. Which is why when Alucard, the King of the Pit Nightclub, offered to take care of her she accepted despite her spotty history with pimps. There was no denying that things got better though, she had a warm place to sleep, a safe place to work from and a job where she kept her legs shut to supplement her income. She found working a bar wasn't unlike working a John, you kept your ears open and gave them exactly what they wanted. She even had friends, the other girls who worked at the bar: Little Bits and Trouble.

Things may not have been right as rain, but they ran like clockwork until he showed up. They didn't know if he was a grand wizzard or a mad scientist, hell he could have been the one who sank the new Atlantis. Whatever he was he wanted to rule the world and told the creatures of the night that they better get down or they better lay down. To prove he was serious he unleashed a hint of his power, a plague that wrecked everyone form the most powerful vampire to the smallest human. Everyone except Sassy.

- Nekos. In Sassy's experience they either look like Japanese Lolita's or Rastafarians. They tend to be a bit shy of outsiders, seeing as they are not violent by nature, but they're definitely willing to trade drugs for sex and there's no party like a laid back Neko party.

- Mara. Mara is one of the younger, and more unpredictable members of the pack. For reasons unknown she found herself rather attached to Sassy, often insisted that she sleep the night in the den after the Alpha was done with her and making sure she ate three meals a day, since humans were so delicate.

- The Wolfpack. Rude, crude and ridiculously good looking in leather. They own and operate the local chop shop and smuggling depot.

- Alucard. No one is quite sure what Alucard is. Whatever his species he's tough enough that he keeps The Pit neutral territory and keeps the girls asses out of the fire, not matter how much trouble they get into.

- The Vampire Clan. They also have excellent parties, but they only invite themselves. If something nasty violent goes down, it's usually them. They're steady money though, as the human population ever dwindles but Sassy makes them pay extra if they want draft rather than bottle.

- Magic Doers. This lot was just a bit...odd. Some were dark and dangerous witches, some were affable alchemists, others had their minds swallowed up with the powers, which the island seemed to intensify. They weren't dangerous really, unless you crossed them.

- The Library. These guys were the closest thing that the island had left to white hats. They were mostly comprised of humans and few other truth seekers, those who found the incident fascinating and wished to either study the phenomenon or cure it.

- Little Bits and Trouble. The two other girls that work at The Pit. Sometimes they tend bar, sometimes they waitress and sometimes they dance, but they always find danger. Most of the time it either takes Sassy or Alucard to get them out of it.

- Cyborgs. The last creatures to ask for help from. With so few humans left, Cyborgs run the necessary mechanics to keep the city going. However there's a nasty rumor that they were created by the man who now holds the city ransom.

- Sassy.

That's all folks, let me know if any of this inspires.

Floating the idea of making this a group game...https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=247513.0

First post is up - https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=254307.0

Recruitment Thread - https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=259436.0

Maeve · December 05, 2015, 08:30:17 PM

17) Redefining Sacrifice -

This is another one of those that can either be played 1x1 with each of us taking on multiple parts or as a small group. I started a similar game on here awhile ago but it has since dried up and I wanted to expand on the idea. Think of this as along the lines of one of those supernatural soap operas. Buffy, Vampire Dairies, Hemlock Grove, Dark Shadows just to name a few. A small town with lots of secrets and a big bad around every corner. I would in fact prefer that this story have an episode like feel to it, where each new adventure led to figuring out the mystery of the town and perhaps saving the girls...if after all of this they want to be saved.

There is a house in Arnot that one young woman a generation enters and doesn't leave except in a coffin. She may be seen about town, running errands, going to church but she is not spoken to or acknowledged by the locals. Not even her own family. She might as well be dead. Her true fate however is worse; she belongs to the demon. A blood sucking fiend lives on the hill for as long as any of them can remember, even the town historian can find no trace of a time before it's presence. It's almost as if Arnot was created around the creatures lair.

The girl, sometimes boy if times are tough, is their sacrifice. It is she who will take on the duty of feeding and entertaining the beast instead of it terrorizing honest folk.

Leonard Snarkadder is devastated when it's his daughters name that is drawn. His Virginia is the one light he has left in his life. He can't give her up to this living death, so when a perky tourist asks for directions in the middle of the night he directs her to the fate that should have been his child's.

Ashby is just blowing off steam between semesters and decided that a road trip through New England would be the perfect holiday. She never thought when she started out that it would result in her being a blood slave to a vampire.

Arnot is a town with many secrets. More than just the monster on the hill. It's also a town that gossips.

- The monster on the hill. He can't remember his name, or how old he is. Each new girl that comes names him, catapults him into the modern world and keeps him confined, like the Minotaur in his labyrinth.

- Virginia Snarkadder. The should have been sacrifice. She's devastated when he finds out the truth from her father and is torn between saving Ashby from the creature and saving her own skin. She should have known however that it didn't matter which she chose. There was no shortage of danger in Arnot.

- Leonard Snarkadder. The man who would damn a stranger rather than his own daughter.

- Ashby. The unsuspecting collage student who found herself in a nightmare.

- Tanner is part of a long line of caretakers. With every girl that is chosen a boy from his family is as well, or a if a boy is chosen that a girl from his line is. A few years ago he was unlucky enough to have his great uncle die and his name be drawn from the lottery. They are the dogs that guard the house on the hill. Not only do they keep him in, but strangely protect him as well.

If any of this inspires let me know or if you have a random supernatural idea that has no home feel free to contact me.

I have a modest example here.

"So like what are you?" Jill, the class president and preachers daughter asked.

"What am I?" Padma queried in turn, her brows crinkling. Virginia snickered next to her.

"Yeah I mean, I know you were born here," Jill told her, laughing awkwardly, "But what are your parents? Maori? Sami? Aboriginal? Padma's just such an unusual name."

"Hippies," Padma told her slowly, "My parents are hippies."

Where in Padma turns out to be a siren and the hottest bad boy in school needs her to win the Battle of the Bands.

- Also I have decided that Vincent Price is the towns resident weird uncle/narrator for the individual stories.

Maeve · December 28, 2015, 10:22:02 AM

18) Most Welcome - TAKEN

A

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

t max this is a three person game. The couple in it can either be brother & sister, engaged or complete strangers. Players choice. This story includes non-con, bondage, some torture but nothing too gory and no snuff.

The ship had gone down and will all hands. Except for two forsaken souls clutching onto the mast. This sea drenched Adam and Eve believed that all was lost and clung as much to each other as to the salt crusted wood beneath their nails.

Then the light of salvation shone down upon them. A lighthouse. They wash up on it's craggy shore almost too weak to take another breath. The last thing they both remember seeing is a strange woman looking down over them with a lamp in hand.

It had been many years since Thomasina had come here as a young bride. Many years since her husband died. Many years since they'd had 'guests'. Over the years her and her twisted mate had given sanctuary to many a shipwreck victim. The price for their hospitality may have sent them away worse for wear but their guests knew better than to tell of their exploits.

Still, word of their particular tastes spread to the authorities but rather than arrest them they utilized them. There was a war on and the techniques that this couple had perfected were more than apt at hooking out secrets.

The war ended, her husband died and she had been left alone to care for the lighthouse, to provide safe passage for those on stormy seas. Apparently, she had done well, as the sea rewarded her with two new guests.

When they awoke they found themselves in warm beds, surrounded by quilts with a pot of tea waiting for them on the bedside table and fire raging. It was only when they went to pour themselves a cup that they found that each of them had one of their hands bound.

Maeve · January 15, 2016, 11:55:21 PM

19) Many Strengths

Not going to lie I don't really have a plot for this one. I do however have two characters that have been trying to crop up in my writing and have yet to find a place. I'm hoping whatever story we can come up with, will be said place.

Him - A warrior who has always known power and victory in battle. That is until he suffers the ultimate disgrace and not only survives the battle where his men met their defeat but he is prized enough to be considered a spoil of war. He thought that he would find himself in a gladiatorial arena, like most of the other warriors, but no the King has seen him. The King thinks he's pretty. Instead of a less noble but entertaining death before the masses he finds himself bathed, powdered and perfumed and placed in the royal harem.

Her - Nothing more than the daughter of a harem girl, one of a hundred siblings, proof of their rulers virility. Being lost in crowd was of use to her, she was not singled out to become the treasured pet of a noble nor an exotic gift for a visiting diplomat. Their's is an ancient kingdom, and considered one of the most learned places on the planet. Being that she is considered nothing more than an extra child, no one stopped her from following her academic pursuits in favor of courtly ones. She spent most of her time at the great library, and leaned from anyone who would teach her. Her talents proved useful to her family, as she became a talented doctor and treated most of their ills, with better luck than the court physicians. It would be this skill that seal her fate, she had transformed herself from just another harem brat into something of value. A gift fit for a king. The new harem she is moved to is not terribly different from her home and with this knowledge she does the best she can to find some peace.

Maeve · January 20, 2016, 08:52:56 AM

20) Catch as Catch Can

It's a peril of the job, shooting the wrong man in the head. 'That's why there's an option to bring 'em in alive boy,' the Sheriff tells him, the side of his mouth that is not spitting tobacco grinning. It's a pain in the ass, but not one in the neck. It's not like he's going to hang for it. He's a bounty hunter, practically got a license to kill, and hell it's not like he robbed a bank and shot a by stander, he was was acting in the name of the law and on a tip from a usually reliable source...

His source hadn't been wrong yet. Till this time. He'd been so sure, that's the thing. He knew down to the minute when his man was going to be leaving that saloon and had sworn on his Mama's bible.

Something about this stunk.

He didn't let his mind wander on it too long though. He doesn't give the man he shot two more minutes and goes to get himself a whiskey. It's only when he's sitting at the bar, watching the newest act from Paris (maybe Paris, TX) that he is enlightened as to whom he done shuffled off their mortal coil.

"Couldn't have killed him after he found the gold?" The man asked, he's well dressed but there's something off about him. Like he's a snake that's trying to shed it's skin.

"What?" He asked, but the man had changed subject pointing to a fair skinned whore watching them from the stairs.

"You want her," the man told him, "She can talk nasty in five languages."

At that, he plunked down two bits in front of the bounty hunter and whirled away in a cloud of maroon velvet.

I'm seeing this as a 1X1 game. Murder mystery, western gunslinger...even add supernatural elements if you life. Let me know if this gets your motor going.

Maeve · February 06, 2016, 10:07:08 PM

21) Respectability is a Rocky Road -

It's no secret that the Authority planets don't have any crime because they ship off anyone who commits the slightest infraction. It's no secret where they send them either, barely hospitable planets that didn't respond completely to terraforming, or were already occupied by hostile races. It works out for everyone, the overpopulated central planets have someplace to send their excess populace and the planets on the outer rim that can't attract settlers have a disposable population.

It even saves the taxpayers. If your prison is a backwater planet with no chance of escape, there is no need to spend money on guards or bars. There is fear of uprising though. Should these angry planets capture a Battleship or weapons and reek vengeance of the worlds that damned them to hell.

There are two ways that this concern is handled: 1. There is no trading between the planets. Each planet produces on good and relies on another to produce their other needs. Illegal farming, mining and manufacturing are punished by death. Thereby each planet is keep in their servile state, unable to be self relent. 2. There is only one gender per planet. They are there to increase the planets fertility, not their own. After all according to the Authority, bad fruit only produces bad seeds.

Selene was the worst of the female prison planets. The planet is split between vast deserts and dangerous labyrinthine swamps. There are stories of two beautiful Oasis's that combine the two, but no one has ever seen them and many have died looking for them. The women of Selene are as mean as they come with a strict hierarchical system. The tough women are at the top, those that mine the salt, or hunt the giant scaled beasts that rule the swamp. The smart women are after that, those that run the tent towns and keep some semblance of order. Then there are the soft women. Those preyed on and sometimes exalted by the other two groups. The prostitutes and housewives.

Chenta was a criminal since she was born. An illegal hybrid between an alien mother and human father. Her home world became a prison for the outsiders when she was eight. When they invaded and declared her planet unfit for decent folk and left their trash. Their refuse turned her beautiful home to shit, they killed her people and ravaged the land for their own wants. Though she committed no crime, she was considered one of their number. Her reputation only grew over the years as she took down one boss of the Tough women after another. Though she refused to become a leader, she enjoyed the benefits her reputation gave her.

Like now, when she could claim this pretty thing for her own. Lira was going through the standard initiation for a troublesome soft woman. Those wishing to turn her out hammered four stakes into the ground and tied her to them spread eagle. They would then leave her for two days, allowing any and all to do what they wished to her until she gave in to their demands.

Chenta had never taken a wife, she felt no desire to have someone about her tent mucking things up. She didn't relish the concept of having to protect and care for someone. Until she saw Lira, marching down the gangplank of the prison ship like she was visiting Queen, and slapping the face of the first tough woman who grabbed her flank and whispered something perverse in her ear.

Lira's was a crime of conscience. She was shipped here because she questioned the right of the Authority to rule when all they did was create suffering. The Judge then decreed that she should know true suffering. Lira couldn't help but think he was right as she looked about this savage wasteland.

I don't know what came over me, I found myself in the mood for a sci-fi lesbian prison romance. Other than the basic premises I'm not sure where I want this to go. They could try to escape. This could just be a story about Lira settling in. This could be a story of a prison rebellion.

I did have a squeal idea for this story however. Where after they've developed the planet somewhat, it is decided that the prisoners should be allowed families. There would then be a prisoner exchange, 50 men and 50 women would switch Prison planets. The story would then become about the effect of adding a male partner (however temporarily) to Lira and Chenta's relationship.

- Perhaps this man?

Maeve · February 22, 2016, 11:25:12 AM

22) Monster - TAKEN

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

First off, there is a trigger warning for this one. I'm very much against animal abuse, however in this story it is a critical part though never described in detail. If that bothers you I hope that we can collaborate on another piece, just not this one.

It never mattered to Oliver that some people like the Alderdice's lived in grand homes on elegant estates while he lived in a simple shack in the woods. Why should it bother him? He lived on the edge of an ancient forest which contained more magnificence than their cultured lawns, with his own Chiron like he was his own hero in some epic tale. Like most great sages Hackit is short on sanity but long in wisdom and Oliver had made his hovel his university and home since he was no bigger than a tickle wren.

It never mattered to Oliver that poor boys like him could never marry rich girls like Fable Alderdice. Who spent her days in a homemade veterinary office, looking after stray creatures and poor children's pets. He never thought much of his former childhood friend. They had grown apart over the years, their stations as they were. He didn't begrudge her haughty nature or her aversion to interactions with those below her class, it was merely as things were.

It never mattered to Oliver that the townsfolk whispered about him. When he was a child they said that he was fairy touched, that he communed with demons in the woods and that he could curse you with a look. Superstitious nonsense! At least that's what the town leaders and well to do folks said. Until he grew older. Things from wealthy houses went missing, businesses were vandalized, animals were found mutilated and serving girls violated in their beds. What did matter? No charges were brought, for there was no evidence. Anyhow it wasn't him, but several boys from good families, who paid him well to let their elders go on believing that their perfect children were nothing less than angels. Since Oliver's only companion was Hackit, who would have though no less of him even if he was the devil himself, he never suffered from his monstrous reputation.

Until one day he brought a litter of puppies to Fable Alderdice's door. The Branson boys had used their mother for hunting even though she was still nursing and it had resulted in the poor hounds death. Oliver had been working as an extra hand to bring in the harvest that day and they had paid him a few bob to drown her puppies. Thinking it unfair that dogs from such good stock should be done away with he took them instead to Fable, hoping she would be able to raise them and eventually give him the biggest of the litter as a guard dog.

She had been turned away from him when he entered, back lit by the afternoon sun which spilled over her like an ethereal glow. She had a large bird on her shoulder, it's colors so bright they almost blinded. It was a gift from her brother who was currently stationed in South America. Awestruck as he was and with his arms full of squirming dogs he slammed the door harder than he intended to and the bird flew off her shoulder with an indignant squawk onto his head. He looked up at it in wonder, at this beautiful, exotic creature.

None of it had ever mattered: the poverty, the exclusion, his reputation as a black heart. That was until he saw the look in her eyes. The fear the swam at the corners and pinched her beautiful expression. Then it all mattered. He dropped off the puppies and ran.

Hackit had said that he knew this day was coming since he took the boy in. That he would leave him to find his fortune and bore him no ill will for it. Oliver promised that if he didn't die in his quest for a new life he would provide well for the old man. Hackit told he would do him proud if he didn't die from the pox in the arms of a whore.

Oliver certainly didn't do that. A few twists of luck and some wily decisions not only did he end up wealthy, but the darling of nouveau riche society and one of it's most eligible bachelors. With his new life he did everything he could to forget his old one, with two exceptions: he sent the money he promised to Hackit and every night before he laid his head down to sleep he remembered the look on Fable Alderdice's face.

He never intended to return to his home village. Except by some strange twist of fate, the same star that exulted him lead to the ruin of the Alderdices. Some men simply shouldn't invest. Oliver had returned to collect the old man's debt. He never thought that he would return to his fashionable city home with a wife.

It started in the pub where some local boys were talking about Fable and how she shouldn't be so uppity now that she was no longer rich and thusly her suitors had deserted her. After all, what man would marry her now? Before he could stop himself, Oliver responded that he would. News spread quicker than an outbreak of cholera. Rather proposing repayment of his debts, old man Alderdice was proposing marriage as a way to get out of debt.

Fable on the other hand, could think of no worse fate. She refused and loudly. Saying she would rather see her beloved Veterinary clinic burned to the ground than marry him. Her brothers obliged.

That was how Oliver found her, sobbing among the ashes. Without a thought he ushered her into his carriage and commanded that they make their way home post haste.

He couldn't help by think of that bird, and how his new wife dressed in the best of urbane finery looked liked she was walking not into her new home, but a gilded cage.

I'm thinking a Gothic romance/comedy of errors mash up, with a touch of Eros and Psyche.

Maeve · March 04, 2016, 09:16:27 AM

Not A Subtle Sleuth

The thing is he needs the money. Really needs the money. For the sake of his balls needs the money. Otherwise he never would have taken another catch 'em in the pink with mismatching rings gigs. They're messy, they're boorish and frankly they're beneath him. On the other hand they pay, a ridiculous amount. All it takes is one supposed self made man who inherited not only money, but ego and insecurity from the sperm bank that thinks his trophy wife might be tired of her pedestal to fill his account and extend his credit at the liquor store.

With that warm thought in mind he tries to fight off the cold that is slowly encasing the car with icy tendrils, his camera in shaking hands. It was suppose to be easy, he's done it a thousand times when the rent is due. Just take a couple of snaps in the buff, make sure you get both of their faces and he'd let the ashes of their marriage line his checks.

That was the plan. It was a good plan. It was a simple plan. Adultery was a play that was acted out every night and twice on Sundays and always filled the house, comforting in its cliches and well worn plot. Except this leading lady was reading from a different script and hers read enter stage right with a gun.

"Why are you watching me?" She asked, cocking her pistol.

Whatever this broad was up to, it was far more expensive than an affair.

Maeve · March 05, 2016, 03:53:19 PM

An Unlikely Fairytale

Love is a many splendid thing. Love is the most blessed of all emotions. Love makes many under it's sway act the hero or the fool or...the villain.

Jeremy and Gertrude are a young couple in love. Blinding, passionate, blissful love. All should be right in the heavens, for cupid has struck his bow and two souls have found their mate. Except Jeremy is the bus boy at a local resort and Gertrude is a young lady of society, her family members of the recent rich merchant class. New money looking to hook itself onto old. They've sunk their talons into someone too. Lord William is younger than most of her suitors but no insipid youth. A man of class, distinction and wealth. The world however has made him weary about the eyes. He thinks that Gertrude with her newfangled ways and even newer money will be just the shot of energy that his old estate needs.

Jeremy has other ideas. You'll be a soggy Cinderella, he tells his sister. She's a local actress and well known beauty in their neck of the woods. All she needs to do is seduce him away from Gertrude, or at least cause such a scandal that her puritan family will not even consider the debauched aristocrat. It's easy enough and a game she has played before. She just never expected to fall for him.

Maeve · March 08, 2016, 09:05:35 AM

23) Tug of War - CRAVING

She's not sure how the affair started. All she knows is that four times a week she wakes up in a five-star hotel, a breakfast tray with a single rose, a few hundred pounds and note that says: Till next time. Best, Jae. She had met Jae 'Just call me Jay' Cho at a charity event. She had been serving and he had been drinking champagne, their eyes had met, something sparked and she had received an invitation to join him for a drink. She turned it down of course. Good girls like her didn't get mixed up with gangsters like him and make no mistake, despite his well-tailored suits and impeccable manners, Jae Cho is a ruthless gangster. A second generation Londoner, born to Korean parents, he did not make the mistake his father did working his fingers to the bone to barely scrap by. Jae went out and made a name for himself, even if it meant he needed to erase a few others.

Still nice, sensible girls who were training to be art restorers like her, don't get involved with such men. It simply isn't done. Even if she does like the way his eyes sparkle and the suit hugs his lines. She intended to never think of him again, but it's pouring rain on the way home and there's simply no cabs to be had. She's walking along a back ally, her coat over her head and her heels rapidly filling with water.

A black limousine stops and the door opens. They don't talk as he ushers her in, nor do they speak as he checks them into the most expensive hotel she has ever seen. The first thing he asks her isn't her name but if she prefers red or white.

Their unorthodox relationship hasn't always been smooth. The first time he gave her money she threw it back in his face. His embraces border on the possessive and she can only imagine what would happen if she refused to get into that black car, which comes to pick her up with increasing frequency. Overall though, it's the most pleasant relationship she's ever been in. He's witty and always happy to see her, he lavishes gifts on her and seems to be relieved in her presence. They talk art, play chess and make love long into the night.

Still something is wrong. He holds all the cards and she can't help but suspect that part of her appeal for him is his unquestioned power over her. It can't last, it's not sustainable. She'll either get out or be consumed by him. It all comes to a head one night when he tells her that he's buying her an apartment. The dream shatters and she's faced with a reality as cold as the keys she holds. She waits for his breathing to slow before she sneaks out of the hotel room, the keys laying on a note saying simply that she couldn't do this anymore.

She then begins the long walk back to her family home. She needs to clear her head and the predawn air is helping calm her mind. When she stops at a local market to stall to pick up black coffee and bagel a black car stops and the door opens. Biting her lip she gets in, figuring the only right thing to do is to give him an explanation.

The man who waits for her isn't Jae, but a powerful rival.

"Right then lovie," he greets, "Don't scream. You keep your wits about ya and you'll leave my company without a hair on your head mussed. Your man and I made a deal and I'm going to keep a hold on you until he comes through with his end of it."

She sinks back into the fine leather, her breakfast forgotten and wonders whether the man she rejected will come for her at all.

Maeve · March 12, 2016, 01:25:23 PM

24) The Cardinal's Witch -

In the beginning light and dark was entwined. The light was for truth and piety and virtue. The dark was magic, love and song. The light protected those from the dark preyed and the dark comforted those who had been burned by the light.

So it was for many seasons, each inter playing and executing their roles. Until the light decide that the dark no longer had a place. The dark was vile and rank. The dark was evil.

The priests and priestess's of the dark went underground as the light ruled above with new temples dedicated to order.

Victory wasn’t enough. There were still followers of the dark, reminded each night of its temptations. They hunted down the followers of the night and reduced their numbers to a presence so small that everyday people wondered whether they ever existed at all.

They had, and they did still. A group of only 7,000 strong and their numbers rapidly depleting as the followers of the light send one exterminator after another. Death was not the only threat, they burned their books and raised their temples. It was these actions that would lead to their extinction. So the members who remained took the remaining sacred texts and put them in a great computer and then downloaded them into their personages at great personal cost.

They were forever branded with injection sites, the words etched on their bones and a variety of other markings depending on the tome. They could never walk among society again. What the faith takes away, it gives in turn. So then had the power to heal, the power of the elements, the power of the night itself. The followers of the light started calling them witches and they began to fight back.

“She is too young!” Silas protested. Ursa was only 22, but raised in the faith and she wanted to take the marks. Silas knew it would be a life sentence and she could never have a normal life, but one of exile in a land of fear.

“It’s what I want,” Ursa told him firmly, but not unkindly. She knew the elder priest merely wanted what was best for her and she wanted what was best for her family.

“My child, my child,” he repeated, cupping her face in his old weathered hands, “You are condemning yourself to a life ever entombed.”

“I want us to live, holy father, I want us to live,” she told him, clasping her own hands around his. He then kissed her on the forehead and said no more.

The marks affected everyone differently. Those that were given the gift of fire often looked as those they had been struck by lightning. Those that could heal generally had some limb withered. Those that could kill with a look had the appearance of reptiles.

Ursa knew this as she lay on the table and waited for the holy rite to begin. The soft spoken women of the night attacked the probes to her hands, to her temples, along her collar bone, her navel, her hips, and her feet. It didn’t hurt yet.

That was yet to come.

No pain killers were given. Pain was purity, one needed to feel everything otherwise it was surgery and not ritual.

Ursa screamed her prayers as word by word was downloaded into her very being. Her body was on fire, her mind was overflowed with knowledge and her voice was giving out. But she held on, to give in to the pain would be wavering of her faith, so even when her voice gave out she continued to mouth the words. She held on until she could no longer hold out and her world become comforting blackness.

It would be that forever more.

With what voice she had left she screamed when she opened her eyes and saw nothing.

Ursa woke as though downing, gasping for every breath. She staggered from her simple cell and into the outer corridor, looking for fresh air and open spaces.

“My child,” Silas greeted, taking her shaking form into his arms, “Another vision?”

“No, just a dream,” She told him, cradling herself in his arms.

“Ah, I must say that I am relieved. Though your visions have kept us safe for three long years.”

Had it been? Three years without them attacked, with being able to outrun the warriors of the light and all because Ursa could see the future.

“I hope, Holy father that I may do so for many years to come.”

This story concerns Ursa, the witch who traded her eyes for sight. The Cardinal (Face model and personality your choice) has spent years hunting her, believing that with her captured they can finally be rid of the competing cult. He also believes that he can use her to predict his own future and heighten his career.

Maeve · March 17, 2016, 04:33:21 PM

Reluctant Wishes

It was truly unfortunate her Uncle had decided to push matters this far. For all his sophistication, the man really could be a bull headed plug, do excuse her language.

He was insisting that she marry her dippy cousin. Combine the lands, secure the bloodline, c'mon maid do it for the good of the family was the way the arrangement had been presented to her, over a course of some rather sub par grouse.

She had flatly refused. She was young, blonde, the pearl of the court...why would she waste her youth on a man who couldn't even hunt and whose calves looked less substantial than a table leg in tights? No, she had her sights set on Lord Conall. He was Scottish true, but she could over look that in favor of his families wealth and just how nicely he presents in a kilt.

Her Uncle was very disagreeable about the whole thing and decided to lock her up in one of the more ancient estates. Nestled deeply on a craggy outcrop with the sea on one side and the moors, the estate looks pagan and primal. The servants are no different. All she can do is write pleadingly to her lover and try to protect her best dresses from the sea air and her delicate skin from the sharp winds off the moors, so she will be as lovely as the day they met.

Their is a dame that lives on the estate, so old she probably knew King Arthur personally, who entertains her at night. They sit in the kitchen, the only warm place in the house, where she ruins her hand holding greasy yarn as the crone told her weird and wild tales: Black Dogs, Headless Carriage Drives, The Good People and of the evil Sorcerer who will grant one wish at midnight for anyone brave enough to pray for him on Christmas Eve. Just something to think about deary, the crone told her. She shook her head, there was no possibility that she would still be here at Christmas. Her Uncle would relent, her lover would rescue her.

Then the snow falls. There is no word from Conall. Her Uncle visits and tells her that she will either leave wed to his son or in a coffin. On Christmas Eve she dons a red cloak and with only a single candle makes her way to the Sorcerer's grave.

Maeve · March 28, 2016, 02:16:03 AM

25) Could Be Worse

There was a lot of things that Meg did when the rent was due. Credit card fraud was her favorite, but she wouldn't consider it stooping to dabble in some hacking, maybe a couple of melon drops on Sunday if the crowds were good, providing party favors to a few sorority houses and yes, if you had Ben Franklin and some friends ask, she did more than dance.

This however, this was giving her more heartburn than the burgers down at Franklin's. It was a fairly easy gig. All she had to do was have him meet her and then the Squire's boys would do the rest. She wasn't sure what Kirk had done to upset one of the most powerful men in the city, but she wasn't too happy that he had inadvertently given them her scent. They knew that she would do it cause she was perpetually broke. They knew that he would come out of hiding to come see her because...well because he always came to her distress calls. He was the one man, the only person, who never let her down. Not since the first time he had arrested her for shoplifting and given her a long lecture on the social contract. Not since he found her on a street corner, bought her coffee and hung around all night to make sure she broke up with her pimp that she thought was her boyfriend. Not since he called her drunk on New Years Eve because his partner had been gunned down and she had rushed down 16 blocks to make sure she was his midnight kiss...

He was the one good cop left in a city so corrupt that the Squire could crush anyone he liked and expected everyone, from the mayor to a humble bum to kiss his ring. Which wouldn't be so bad, but he kept it in his back pocket. Apparently Kirk hadn't puckered up, hadn't bent to the psychopaths will. It was one of her favorite things about him.

By the time he showed up, uniform long abandoned and replaced by sunglasses and a ball cap, she had shredded three napkins.

"What's the matter Buttercup?"

Meg bit the inside of her lip. Fuck it she didn't feel like smooching the Squire either. "We need to leave. Now."

So action, danger, justice and romance! All the good things in life. PM me so we can cement a plot.

Maeve · April 05, 2016, 10:14:46 AM

26) One Sees Mud & the Other Stars

He skimmed his hand from one handle a cell door to another. The hallway he was meandering down was depressingly white: white tile floors, white drop ceiling, white walls and white doors that lead to white padded rooms. It might make all of this look clean, not exactly comfortable but sterile and serious. Like a hospital. Except there's not patients here, there's prisoners. Each cell holds another pathetic soul, molted with bruises and crusted blood on their necks. Their injuries the only source of color. With every drip of their blood goes another drop of humanity, until they're released as something far different than what they went in as.

Until recently he was in a cell. Him and the rest of his crew. Runaways, hustlers, dealers and addicts made up his clan and he their proud warlord protected them in their warehouse kingdom. Till the monster came and picked them off one by one, dragged them back to his lair and...changed them forever. Or as he liked to put it, he gave them a gift...

It didn't feel like a gift. It felt like the jail sentence truly began when they were let out of their cells. The hunger overpowering and only quenched at his command.

His hand went from one handle to another, another cell, another future mouth to feed with an ever shrinking food source. He started sliding the windows open to, looking at one poor soul to another, his mouth watering with the view of each new victim. It was rhythmic, a zen like mediation that clawed him deeper into the pit of his pain. Sliding his fingers over the cold metal of one handle to another, opened the window to look at another poor bastard, feel the twin pangs of sympathy and hunger. Rinse and repeat.

Until he came to a door without a handle. He wondered if their creator was building more cells, creating more monsters, but the next door had a handle. He pushed at it experimentally. It didn't give. It was locked from the inside. He reached to open the widow, to see what treasure could be inside. Only to find that too opens from the inside.

Maybe the creature could feel his presence or just see his shadow on the other side of the door, but that window did open and a large pair of bright blue eyes stared back at him.

I've decided that all of my werewolf/vampire fics take place in the same universe. Perhaps with the exception of Redefining Sacrifice and The Airs Fine Once You Grow Gills, maybe but maybe not. I'll have to see how their stories progress. Anyway like Only Politics this would work best as either a small group or us sharing characters. I'm also leaning towards this being as much of a relationship (romantic or otherwise) between the two male roles as it is with her. Also I am seeing her less of a prisoner and more of a political captive in the traditional sense. PM me if interested.

Maeve · April 12, 2016, 10:40:04 PM

27) Statute of Limitations

Christ, he was a prick. Always had been. Since he found her in that brothel in Kiev. As she angrily stripped herself of her jewelry, her dress, her fake eye lashes she wondered how she was going to survive another day with him, let alone another decade, let alone another century.

Wasn't like she had a lot of options. She didn't have any money of her own, didn't have huge skill set and she had one hell of a temper. She knew if she left she'd just end up on her back again... which was still better than being with another vampire. Who really wanted to live out their eternity as a nameless 'bride? Another hag in white and too much make up left with scraps while whatever Dracula impersonator managed to rent a cheap castle.

At least this one needed her. He wanted to live forever. To find out the truth about everything. Once upon a time he had been alchemist. Now he was Vegas magician. Least it paid for his experiments.

What was she? When anyone asked, he told them that she was his muse. Which was true in a way, the only way he stayed alive was by making that damn elixir from her blood.

She collapsed on the toilet and cried into her Jimmy Choos, nothing would change. Things would go on this way forever and it was best it was ever going to get.

At least that's what she thought until she met him.

Maeve · April 18, 2016, 10:56:19 AM

28) A Different Sort of Ending

Everyone knows how the fairy tale ends. The Prince marries his poor but virtuous love and they live happily ever after. Tatiana was that maid from the scullery, abused by her step family whom through many trails and tribulations won the heart of her handsome prince. All she knew was that she was overflowing with love and adoration every time she looks at him. She just assumes that this love will conquer any obstacle and they will live out their days in peace and harmony.

The court, not quite so blinded by love, will not allow the Prince to marry a penniless nobody. There are things to consider, treaties to be made and heirs to produce. He almost abdicates in protest. He loves her and if he can't have her, there is no point in sitting on the throne. His father in a fit of wild rage almost exiles him and brings in his cousin to rule. Something the Prince agrees would be grievous injustice to his people.

His grandmother, ever practical has a better idea. Keep the little hussy, she tells him, make her a royal mistress. She says love is one of the greatest forces on the planet and thus must be kept in check. She may be a royal mistress, the one closest to his heart, the one he loves but she may not be the royal mistress. That honor will go to a noblewoman, a star of the court to honor her house. As for a wife, his wife will be of noble blood and from a great house across the sea.

He puts duty before love and agrees. Though she is deeply wounded, Tatiana refuses to give up on her Prince and would have no where to go if she didn't. However what he tells her next almost has her running to a nunnery, or even her awful kin. They can't have an unmarried women about the place. It's just not proper. She must be married, and due to the love the Prince has for her, she will be married well.

Sir Darius is a well connected man, ambitious and cold and when a opportunity to have the princes favor emerges he jumps at the chance. He has no need of a wife, so why not marry this pretty empty headed thing and wave his wedding ring whenever he needs a royal favor. They wed on a cold November morning in a private ceremony. She spends her wedding night with her Prince and her husband sails for an extended trading mission.

Everything is right with the heavens for two years. There is no couple as must in love as Tatiana and her Prince. Her love for him shields her from the harsh whispers of the court and the cold shoulder people of quality give her. She doesn't realize how alone she really is until news comes that the Princes Princess will finally be arriving at court and she is slated to be sent away.

As soon as everything settles, her Prince whispers into her hair as lie in bed together, I will bring you back.

In the meantime she is sent to live at her husbands estate in the country. A haunting structure of rude rock and imposing battlements. Still she intends to make the most of it. It will only be for a few weeks.

But the weeks turn into months. The winter celebrations are rapidly approaching, as is the husband that she hasn't seen in two years.

I don't what's gotten into me, I'm having an urge for arranged marriages and love triangles. Must be spring.

Maeve · April 29, 2016, 09:21:22 AM

29) Honorable Discharge -

There were cheery propaganda posters on the wall in some misguided venture to make this putty colored office bearable. One that read 'The Most Heartfelt Gratitude' showing a woman, beautifully dressed, rushing out the door to throw her arms about a man in uniform. They were a peaceful planet. Home to many universities think tanks and research centers. They did not, however, have space for a standing army and when the barbarians were at their gate, rather than fall like Athens to Rome, they hired their own.

They should have studied their Machiavelli. The mercenaries, when the battle was won, declared that they wanted women not credit. They promised their retiring soldiers a homestead and a wife.

Another poster showed a young woman, tired and bedraggled in her business casual suit in a cramped office longing looking through dating databanks. The next panel was the same woman well-coiffed playing with her children in a large vibrant garden. The caption read 'All This and a Husband Too!'.

"So what are you looking for in a partner?" The interminably perky caseworker asked her.

"Hmm?" Regan started, tearing herself away from the posters. She thought this was the cruelest part of the process. Not being plucked from her life and everything she held dear, it was this. This illusion of choice. She was pretty sure they used these surveys for toilet paper when they were through with them.

"Must love dogs," she said flatly,"I have pets...I will be able to bring them with me right?"

"Oh of course," the woman said again, too happily for it to be true, "I see you have two technical degrees. Nurse and Vet Tech! That's awesome! That'll put you near a town for sure, rather than sticking you off in the boonies like..."

She didn't have to finish the sentence. Regan knew. If the lottery wasn't bad enough, there was literally a bounty on women between the ages of 18 to 30. The government called it a 'reference'.

"Well I think that's about everything, just need you to sign here," She held out Regan's death warrant and a pen with an unending smile.

"Come on man, it's free pussy," Blake laughed, beating him to the showers and turning them on as hot as they went.

Nathel shrugged. He wasn't a man of many words. What he was was a good soldier. He had joined this band when he was a child. An orphan that faced starvation or life in service. He had just been grateful for three square meals a day and bed and had been for 25 years. Now his service was up and they were handing him his reward on a silver platter. He just wasn't sure whether he liked the smell.

"Even if they're just hookers and begger girls," Blake continued, "Still have it on demand."

Nathel shrugged again and stepped under the shower head.

Still on an arranged marriage kick. I'm thinking this story takes place in the same universe as Respectability is a Rocky Road.

Maeve · May 28, 2016, 07:52:47 AM

Challenged

The judge was crooked. No surprise there. Most of them were and most of them liked seeing men like him suffer in the gutter, just so they could punish them for being poor, punish them for trying for something better. None of this was new, almost comic, like a pantomime were everyone knew the plot and lines and say the punchline before the actor. He also saved the Judge the trouble, just send me to the colonies, he wanted to say but kept his mouth shut.

He got hard labor for sure, but it wasn't in the colonies. This judge more crooked than the rest of his ilk. He's got his own island, where he has them sort the goods he's smuggled and has them digging for...something. His own private hell where he plays the devil.

Turns out the devils got a pretty daughter.

Maeve · June 04, 2016, 08:06:42 PM

30) The Robber Brides

"He's one of them Mormons," Cursed Cox informed his compatriots as they rode, their saddlebags filled to the brim with stolen loot.

"He ain't no damn Mormon, that man would spit on God himself if he rode up to his place." Steel Watson laughed, "He's just greedy. He finds a new woman he likes, he just waits for a blizzard, locks her up at his place and lets her spend the winter getting used to the idea."

They all had stories. They were orphans of of trappers, retired working girls, half breeds, on the run from the law or girls from out east who...got lost. Somehow they all found their way into his arms, whether they were leaping into them or being dragged. They were all happy enough. They were just on the outskirts of the law. Him running his gang and them raising his cattle and growing vegetables for his table.

Until one day Wildfire nearly got him hung. Not on purpose but he doesn't quite trust her anymore. She knows the way back to his heart and it seems the heavens are on her side, when a caravan of greenhorns from out east are attacked. The only survivor their pretty young daughter.

Good thing it's starting to snow.

I'm planning on this story mostly concentrating on the women themselves and their relationships to each other, over their relationship with him. I think I would prefer this to be a group game. Maybe with four or more of us taking on several roles. If you are interested, pm me.

Maeve · June 10, 2016, 10:14:03 PM

A Town Run By Vultures

They escaped to a new world for a chance at a peaceful life. Over the years they had to keep escaping. From New England, to New Orleans to this new uncharted land. All they want to do is learn the local flora and fauna, take care of their own and live as best they can.

Then cattlemen come, letting their beasts trample their farms, and their men molest their women.

Their tired of running and they're about to teach these Cattle Barons that it's unwise to attack a Coven.

"I Couldn't Get Away ..."

Musical Inspiration

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=isBPQ1GGxck

They didn't believe their hired guns at first. That the people they had sent them to 'clear out' weren't human, that they had powers. They laughed when they said the crazy bitches that lived out in the woods were witches.

Until the men refused to go into the woods. Until their cattle started dying. Until they began to curse their families.

Then they sent out a man with special talents.

Too bad the witches found him first.

Maeve · June 14, 2016, 12:02:58 PM

31) Werewolves of the Wastes

What a glorious day of revolution!

They had finally overthrown their male overlords, killed them and their human concubines to a man and taken whatever they wanted.

When the world ended, male and female werewolves had taken separate paths. They were in a stalemate with the vampires, in their impenetrable strongholds while they wandered the wastes. A harsh, hot desert that stretched for miles in which there was little water and even less to eat.

Originally they had agreed that whatever humans they found were food, what was left after vampire sweeps anyway. Until they found a group of humans who had found a way to farm in this hell. The women wanted to kill them all, and run the farm themselves. The men were swayed by the farmers offering their daughters, after all this pointed out another generation of pure born pups would lead to them losing all semblance of human features.

They turned on their own women, forcing them out of this oasis back into the desert, throwing them the occasional scraps of meat in return for what they found on raids.

Enough was enough, and as they stood in the chaos their leader couldn't help but howl in victory as her comrades gnawed on the bones of their enemies, werewolf and human alike. Once the fires have died and they have stood long enough in the ashes, they then realize that they don't know exactly how the humans ran the farm and that without men they will be the last of their kind.

That is until they find an unlikely survivor. A young human girl and her brother, both out tending sheep while they ambushed their family. Though there are many calls to turn them into dinner, their leader spares them. They need someone to grow their wheat and can hope the pup growing in the girls belly will be male.

Originally the female werewolves were supposed to be far more heroic. I'm not sure what happened. If you would like to flesh this one out a bit more with me, just shoot me a pm.

Maeve · June 25, 2016, 08:15:18 PM

Can't Wait Till Morning

"Sir!," she rapped quickly on the door. Hard enough for it be insistent but soft enough that it wouldn't be heard down the hall. Rat, at, rat, at, rat, at, until he finally sprang the door open with all the finality of a mouse trap. Even now she was stunned at how beautiful he always appears.

"Has it happened?" he asked, his voice rough with sleep and demonic excitement.

"Yes," she told him, unconsciously leaning forward to drink in his warmth, she had been so cold for so long, "He's dead."

"Well done my girl," he blessed her with a smile, "Quick there is much to do before the house awakes."

Maeve · July 05, 2016, 10:31:26 PM

Kissed By Fire, Shackled By Ink

He's always had demons about him. Not possessed exactly, but oppressed as some slick preacher in a white suit once told him. He couldn't have agreed more, as one whispered devilish thoughts in his ear about easier ways of escaping this prison. Blood is always an option the imp told him.

He just needed to get back to her.

She was demonic too, in her own way. The daughter of a demon, wrapped in very tempting mortal flesh, her hair kissed by hellfire.

He would dead or insane if not for her. It had been her talent that had not only trapped, but controlled his demon helpers. Lashing them to his flesh with her tattoo gun. He had had six when she had first met her, now they were all silent images on his skin until he needed them. Until he needed to unleash the beast. It might not have been freedom, but it kept them out of hell. The word got around. He was overcome, no matter how many tattoos he got there was always another waiting in the wings.

One night he slipped, he gave in to one of the free ones whispering in his ear. That's how he got a 18 month stretch at Sing Sing. He thought he could hold out, good behavior and then he would trap this one too.

Didn't work out, he kept piling up on his rap sheet. Fighting, fucking, contraband turned 18 months into 18 years and he can't have this voice in his head anymore.

It's why he finds himself in a stinking hoodie traded from a homeless man, whimpering like a kicked puppy at her back door.

Just one more and he can go back to being the hero of his tale.

Maeve · July 21, 2016, 09:26:58 AM

32) The Brothers

There were two goals to her mission: glean what information she could and find the traitor hidden in their midst. Not to punish them, but to recruit them. Anebella was perfect for the role. She was young, pretty and her record was clean, not even a hint that she had anything against the Authority.

The Brothers Hawthrone are perfect too. The poster boys for this new ordered society. So dedicated to their respective fields: banking, politics and the military, that they have shunned the prospect of a family. They still live together in an apartment that is more a glorified office with a three beds.

"You'll see to their needs," Her handler tells her, "You'll listen to their conversations, record their phone calls and make note of who comes over."

"Will I have to..." she trails off, a violent blush over her cheeks and bridge of her nose.

"Not unless you put it in your contract," her handler responds kindly, squeezing her shoulder, "Find out which of them would come to our side and then let me do the rest."

All goes well for three months. No one suspects that she's funneling secrets but she's still no closer to finding out which of them will flip. Then her handler goes dark and she finds her latest report in the living room with a note that reads 'Change your contract or I'll everyone what you are'.

She needs to find an ally soon.

Spies! Intrigue! Suspense! I'm cool playing any role or taking on multiple. PM me if you're interested.

Maeve · August 11, 2016, 09:35:28 PM

Assassins On The Battlefield: Captured

They came from different schools of thought. He was a rude barbarian, perhaps a noble savage in his own way but to his employers nothing but a creature a step above a feral dog. She on the other hand was something much darker. In life she had been beautiful, all her customers had said so. Even the last one who slit her throat rather than pay her. Still there were ways to make coin from her rapidly cooling flesh. A particularly loathsome necromancer offered them the revenge in death that they could not have in life. Perhaps not on the one who hurt you but weren't all men the same? All the better if it was taken out on troops he was paid to shuffle off their mortal coil.

They have arrived on different paths but the destination was the same, death and destruction to their enemies. Well the enemies of the men who paid for their services.

In the past the outcomes had always been the same. The battle won, he would scour the bodies for booty and she would be returned to her box to wait. This time though, this time they lost. For first time since her death she has been left to think of something other than blood and rage, and for the first time since he was a young child, he knew fear at the sight of this unnatural creature.

Maeve · August 29, 2016, 10:13:59 PM

33) May I Outlive the Revolution

I have characters for this idea and sort of a half baked idea. Anyway I love the French Revolution and I would thoroughly enjoy a story taking place during it.

The two lovely ladies are sisters, one a high class courtesan dreaming of a life of recognition of a lady at Versailles. All is going well, she has a rich and titled lover whose wife is on her death bed until she meets a young lawyer with a brain infected by Robespierre, and finds herself hopelessly in love. Her sister has suffered these humanitarian ideas for years and plys her trade at one of Paris's lower class operas. She and the troupe have been arrested on more than one occasion for their risque and borderline treasonous plots. It was how she met him, sitting in a cell with a shocked expression that a young aristocrat would use his connections to help her avoid punishment. He had opened her cell door with one hand and offered her a bouquet of roses with the other.

The story would mostly be about how these two star crossed lovers survive the Terror and end up happily ever after. Action? Adventure? Murder Mystery? Political Drama? Straight Romance? PM me and we'll hash it out.

Maeve · September 08, 2016, 11:02:56 PM

Jinx & Fortune

**The Lady's image was a gift from, Damien

* This match inspired story that would fit neatly inside one of my other stories. At least in the same universe. Obviously this paragraph can be read as a stand alone, however should you like more background, check out my thread and look for 'The Cardinals Witch'.

"These are most grievous charges," the cleric told him over those ten cent spectacles.

"Listen," he began to defend himself, adjusting his snake adorned hat, "I ain't really a dark priest..."

"No," the cleric glared, "You're worse, you're a con man. Telling these honest souls trying to carve out a living from forsaken land that you can bring them salvation in the form of a sacred spring."

It had been a lucrative scam until he was caught. He rolled along the dusty highways until he found some small town suffering from the never ending drought that he was a dark priest, outrunning the law and in return for their hospitality he would grant them water. He had been living like a King for a few years now. He would tell them he could only cast the spell that would create their oasis at the full moon. Until then he ate the best food, sleep in the finest houses and fucked the prettiest girls they had to offer. Course he would be long gone before that sun set on the promised day.

Till the last town. Turns out these folks were a little more god fearing than the rest and they turned him into the authorities before he had a chance to lay down his pitch. Which is how he found himself shackled in a great citadel awaiting his fate.

"The sentence is death."

"Unless?" That got the clerics attention, it seemed that he did not like being a man who was second guessed.

"Yes..." He scowled once more at the convict like he wasn't worth the spit in his mouth, "Unless you can actually bring water to these good people."

"How the fuck am I supposed to do that?"

"How indeed."

Turned out the how was a young witch, a true dark priestess, caught several months back and despite months of torture refused to break. Her gift had been the ability to find water and bring about storms. A handy trick in these parched lands, but one she refused to use while her brothers and sisters were kept in bondage.

"Find a way to convince her, right your wrongs and we shall not pursue your charges."

Maeve · September 15, 2016, 04:35:42 PM

34) Snap! Snap! A piece of your soul.

There is a witch that prowls Port Authority, that lurks about the Penn Station and hunts the Village. She's looking for the tenderest lambs she can find, before the city has it's fill of them. Normally the scraps she can find are enough for one meal but hardly satisfy, their youthful innocence long since devoured by other more mundane predators.

It's not like the old days, there are so few bright young things that she can feast one. The internet age having already scavenged their tastiest bits. Still she finds a few. Fresh off the bus, just starting semester or thinking that a career in the theater was just one knock away on the right door. Those she lures back to her gingerbread house, an artist loft in the trendiest part of town.

"May I take your picture?" She asks and they all heartily agree. With each click of her camera she takes another mouthful of their soul. Their youth maintains her. When they leave they are shells of what they once were. Hollow but perhaps better able to handle Gotham.

When Gale turns eighteen her mother gives her a bus ticket and twenty dollars, happy to have her out of the house. She's been to NY and decides on a whim to start a new life there. She thinks everything she's heard about the city must be wrong when as soon as she's off the bus a beautiful woman offers her a meal and a safe place to sleep...

I'm seeing modern day Hansel and Gretel.

Maeve · September 27, 2016, 11:49:47 AM

The Darker Side Of The Mountain

The good guys won, in a fashion. Their victory looked like a gleaming city on a hill, where the other 'good guys' could live in peace and the rest lived in the shadow of a new era.

There were lots that didn't make it past the gates. Some with good cause, the one trick predators that terrorized the city, the beasts of a different color that cut deeper and the truly diabolical monsters. But there were others. Those that weren't that bad and those that were too young to have ever done bad.

"C'mon, we could be heroes," he told her with a lazy smile, his tattoos rippling to life.

"Heroes?" She scoffed, before blowing off the kneecap of a local petty warlord, "The best we could be is enforcers."

"Whatever works," he told her with a shrug.

Maeve · October 11, 2016, 09:03:54 PM

35) An Unexpected Clause -

It had been 200 years since she had sold her soul to the Sorcerer Zul Duradel. She knows because even after all this time she makes a line with chalk every morning on her cell wall. He moved her to a new one everytime she ran out of wall space.

It's the only way she can tell time here, but counting those rooms of tally marks. Endless blank days of cleaning the keep, cooking his meals, seeing the same dead or desperate eyes of all of those who came to do deals with him. Endless nights of satisfying him.

She thought this would be her eternity. Until one morning, just after she marked another line on the wall, he pulled her into a forbidden room and held out a glowing glass jar. She knows what it is even before she laid her eyes on it. It was her soul, something she thought lost forever.

"I'll give it back to you," he told her, tossing the precious jar from one paw to the other, "but I need a favor."

Maeve · October 18, 2016, 01:15:45 PM

I Drew The Curtains, I Close The Doors - CRAVING

Musical Inspiration

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W0Lgo70cL5Y

It would just be one night. Her pride wasn't worth the destruction of their pretty port city. Her dignity could be sacrificed to the admiral and his many warships. She found it almost funny that her chastity could weighed in cannons and powder. That the beauty of her homeland could be compared to her own in the minds of military men.

She guessed however that on the morrow, he would be the only one considered a hero.

Maeve · October 31, 2016, 03:09:25 PM

Sometimes, Triumph Is Just The Beginning - CRAVING

He had rejected her once. She wasn’t sure she would survive it again. Over the past 9 years, she had survived everything that life had unkindly thrown at her and few dangers she had sought out herself. Sickness, hunger, assassination attempts and barbarian hordes barely stimulated worry in her anymore. Him though, despite everything, he still made her weak in the knees and sick to her stomach.

Last time had been in the throne room, where her humiliation was great entertainment for the assorted courtiers. She had been 19 and naïve and innocently in love with a beautiful cad. She had even confessed her undying devotion with a poem. An atrocious poem that she had tried to scrub from her mind along with the memory of him taking the arm of her cousin, the heir to the throne and patting her on the head as he left to be devoured by the malicious gossip of all of those who had witnessed her mortifying spectacle.

Now almost a decade later she waited in the rooms that had once belonged to that cousin, the banners torn down in favor of her own, just as anxious as she had been the first time she declared her love. This time she would do it in private, just in case he still said no or said only what he thought would please her. That was a concern now that she had an army at her back and the blessing of the Empire do with her homeland what she would.

She had the blood scrubbed from the floor, apparently her cousin had been found cowering by her peasant army who had dealt with their previous monarch as they saw fit, and she had filled the room to the brim with his favorite flowers, foods, and presents that she had gathered for him in the many years of their separation: trinkets from the Kingdoms she had conquered, lands from the Empire she now served and those little chocolates he had so liked when they were children. She was even going to gift him with the bird that she had bought in the market when she first left home, the one she couldn’t pass up because it’s plumage reminded her so of him. Provided he said yes of course, if he said no…well, she hadn’t planned on what to do if he said no.

Maeve · November 07, 2016, 08:02:31 PM

Smiling Masks

Yes, this would work out just fine.

When Miss Lulubelle had been told that the boss man was sending her a nanny she had been livid. So what? They were a bit short on what they normally sent his way. It was there fault for not keeping the Coppers off their backs. Maybe a rival boss’s son was found hiding in her cellar? Maybe his enemies shouldn’t be so good looking and turn her girl’s heads? Maybe one of his guys had gone missing while he was out collecting tax from her? Maybe he shouldn’t have been so easy to kill? That was no reason to send some thin haired, pot belied lackey that would ease greasy fingers into her tills and under the skirts of her girls. No way to show respect for someone who had been a good earner for so many years.

Miss Lulu was thumping mad and ready to lash out at the nearest gangster to vent her rage. Until she saw who he was. She knew him, everyone knew him, he was the handsome as sin wildcard that would just easily kiss you as kill you. The one whose loyalty had recently been called into question. The one who was being punished just as much as she was. The one who had just as much reason to be pissed as the boss as her.

She couldn’t have planned it better herself.

Maeve · November 15, 2016, 08:28:55 PM

36) Strictly Taboo -

She's not his wife. Everyone knows that. Some whisper that she is his sister. Others that she was once afflicted by witches and he now uses her to sniff out others corrupted. There are a few who dare to suggest that she is a witch herself. That during his green days as a young witch hunter he had failed and allowed her to distract him while trying to exact the truth. He now wears her like a yoke to remind himself never to be weak again.

Whatever she is, she's nervous when they enter Essex. A county so infested with witches that no other hunter would go there. The few that have, keen on the fortune and glory of such a conquest are lucky if they leave with their lives. Most do not, and if they do it is without their wits intact. She can barely hope the same for them.

The nature of this story changes dramically on whether you see the witch hunter as good/bad or neutral. I look forward to hearing your ideas.

Maeve · November 28, 2016, 01:29:13 AM

A Ridiculous Proposal

He felt that his laughter might have been bordering on rude, but he wanted to drive home the point of just how preposterous the idea was.

"But," he grinned, "We hate each other."

She nodded, doing everything she could not to stare at the seductive curve of his mouth, "That's why it'll work."

Maeve · December 05, 2016, 01:30:52 PM

37) More Precious than Rubies

Women are nearly extinct, the same methods that saved the planet have caused the females of the human species to dip to just one million souls. They are the worlds greatest resource. Too great to be allowed to care for themselves, no matter what the Feral Wimin may say. For those who have not escaped civilization it is a structured life from secluded schools to training facilities to position of wife or concubine.

Carlotta is one of the few women to be independently powerful in this new world. She is the widow of one of the creators of the female schools, where girls are kept chaste and educated until they come of age. At such point they gather the knowledge needed to serve their new husbands. Some of their methods are considered a touch extreme, especially if they happen to capture of those wild female creatures. This year she has three star pupils and one very rich buyer.

What, did you think they did this as a charity?

Lord Lycan is a billionaire, a senator and one of the most gallant men about town. Every three years he shows off another wife or harem girl, each prettier than the last. It's been a good year for him, he's just been re-elected on a platform dedicated to catching the last of the Feral Wimin and returning them to the loving arms of civilization and his investments have been more than profitable. Time to buy himself a treat. Three treats precisely. A new wife and a new consort. However the law that he upholds states that you can only have two within the space of three years. Carlotta, the understanding soul that she is allows him to take all three, to let him decide who fits best into his household and he may return the one that doesn't.

Fawn, Pansy and Chiclet know what that means. The one returned will no longer be considered pure and therefore sent to the block, to be auctioned to the highest bidder: no courtship, no say, no gentlemen to be found. They have a choice before them, fight among themselves for the highest position of wife or the conciliatory prize of concubine or stick together and find a way to escape their fate.

Carlotta -

Upon her husbands death, she let none of his power fall to another man. She runs the most prestigious of schools and produces the wives and harlots of the elite. In return she just has oodles of money, and that treasure provides her with the best of everything. That being said, she is not unsympathetic to her charges. If she is unkind it's for their own good. Better to belong to a rich man, than take your chances being offered up at the block.

Pansy -

The wild child of her class, Pansy knew more than she should from an early age. She never believed that story about the stork or Prince Charming, but she does believe in Carlotta's diamonds and furs. She wants the good life and she doesn't care who she has to hurt to get it.

Fawn -

The star pupil and the good girl. Fawn has never said an unkind word, nor been anything but proper.

Chiclet -

The others were born in captivity. She's the only one who lived for a time in the forest with her mother and her aunts. She still dreams of being free.

Lord Lycan -

This man has never been anything except rich and powerful. The women he collects are status symbols for his virility and success. In private they are his only comfort in an otherwise strained and demanding life.

Maeve · December 19, 2016, 03:39:17 PM

Noble Profession

She was only 40% lying about why she was leaving. Wren did want adventure and she did want to make a difference in the universe. Educating children on some backwater planet would certainly accomplish both. The other reason though, the one that had worry crinkling around her mother’s eyes, had to do with her radical past.

She’s not sure a student reading group from her University days could be considered radical but it seemed like someone was filling their quota. Two of her former cohort had already been arrested, Lira had been sent to Selene.

Which is how she found herself on a Dandelion Ship. Officially the pod-like structure was designed with safety in mind. Should they find themselves lost in deep space all the little hulls surrounding the main bridge would detach, like the seeds off a Dandelion, had enough fuel to get them to safety and then radio help for the others. However, she wasn’t so naïve not to know that they were the prime choice for smugglers and that she was brought on board to give them a veneer of respectability. The maiden school teacher with her long skirts, braided hair and nose in a book with a cup of tea. It was beyond the realm of possibility that she would be up to no good. It would take a month for them to reach her new permanent home. A month of them pushing her in front of any and all officials while they hid the loot.

In the end, they saved her life. The ship had been lured into the planets orbit by space age wreckers. By the time the Captain gets wise the only thing he can do is release the pods. Wren had been reading in her room when suddenly she was trajected towards the surface, her throat in her stomach for only a moment before the ship righted itself, auto pilot came on and she landed with little fuss.

That was only the beginning of her problems. The pod landed far away from the danger of the wreckers, but it also landed far away from everything else and suddenly Wren wished that she had taken dinner in her room or that she had stored bottles of water rather than tea bags and Christmas wine that the outer provinces were unlikely to have.
She spent two days sweltering in the desert, her belly cramping for want of water and shivering as the night sank into freezing temperatures.

As the sun rose on the third day and she scrambled to bask in it's first milky rays, she thinks that death has come for her. He certainly doesn't look like an angel, but he doesn't attack. Instead, he offers her water, shaking the canteen at her so she can hear the liquid sloshing instead. When she takes a step, he takes one back. After a few of these, she curses him but still follows and she realizes that he's leading her away like she's a stray dog. About ten steps and he gives her the canteen, before rifling through her things. The water tastes too good for her to bring up much of an objection and instead sucked down every drop. By the time he's finished he had two bags slung over his shoulder and his pockets bursting with her goods. For a moment Wren thinks that he may kill her, that he no longer has any use for her, or worse that he still does.

Instead, like he did with the water, he offered up a bit of what Wren hoped was food. Again when she took a step forward, he took a step back. This time he gave it to her when they were out of sight of her craft. Away from her shelter and her last chance of getting outside help. Instead, she followed a stranger into a wasteland. Perhaps, Wren mused on the long walk, that she had bumped her head on her crash landing. That could be the only reason she would do something so foolish.

The sun was making the desert bake, but the heat did little to banish the cold fear that rolled over her like waves. He still hadn't spoken, to give her any indication of what awaited her, still he hadn't made any aggressive moves towards her either. When she lagged behind, he would offer her water or food or let her rest for a few minutes at a time before clicking his tongue for her to follow.

Forty-five minutes into their journey Wren stumbles onto the fact that though he doesn't speak, he understands everything she says. Silence, especially in times of trouble, is something that Wren could not stand and rather than contemplating the various nasty fates that might be awaiting her she filled the emptiness with prattle. She told him of her home, of the movie she saw last week, of her family and friends. It was when she told him that she was a teacher however, that's when his eyebrows lifted and he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. An act that made her ever more uncertain of her future.

Of all the images that she conjured in her head, none of them looked like what she was greeted with. A crowd of children, similar in appearance to him, swarmed them at the edge of a beautiful oasis. The little boys and girls grabbed at her hands, tugged at her dress and tried to crawl up her side. At her panicked look he laughed and finally spoke.

"Teacher, teach."

Maeve · December 30, 2016, 09:08:38 PM

38) Untitled Pirate Story -

Almost a year ago I was part of a group game about young noble women being kidnapped by pirates. It did not last long, which is a downright shame, and I would like to attempt to play her character again. Maybe add in a bit more plot. Should this shiver your timbers, pm me.

Maeve · January 20, 2017, 07:34:18 PM

For His Shadows

Maybe a Peter Pan where Peter left to grow up and Wendy stayed in Neverland?

Maeve · March 05, 2017, 08:45:47 PM

39) Ain't Misbehavin'

The unrepentant sinner. The fallen lady. The brains of the operation.

They found themselves fleeing for their past life, unsure of how to live in the future presented to them and lost in a blizzard. They were three girls from Chicago who had drunk a little too liberally from the fountain of good times and suddenly found themselves with a hell of a hangover. It had a name too and a posse of men looking to cash in on the bounty on their heads. Which is why they had jumped off the warm train to California, jumped on a milk truck and now found themselves stumbling around in heels as the snow crept past their knees.

Death was certain. Which is why when the young man showed up with a lantern, they thought he was an angel. He took them back to a run-down farmhouse. His little sister and mother marveled at their fine clothes. The old cook fed them till they pleaded for mercy. They handed them some crumpled bills and told them that they wouldn't bother them further. The mother insisted they stay till the storm passed, the sister begged that they tell her more big city stories and the young man looked at all of them with heated eyes.

Even when the blizzard subsides there's no way off the farm, not until spring melts back the roads. Instead, the girls figure this place is as good as any to hide and their hosts seem more than welcoming, despite how little they have. They spend their time reading by the fire, learning to knit and teaching the little sister how to sing. They learn of the plight of the farm and the dire future of those who live on it. By the time spring comes around, they have a plan. The young man has shown them where they are on a map and the girls have shown the routes for smuggling hooch and the names of who to contact.

By the time the buds shake on the trees, they've given him the blueprint to be a kingpin.

Maeve · March 19, 2017, 04:49:30 PM

Stealing Magic

The gods were dying. With every village that was eradicated, with every once faithful worshiper that lost their faith, a little more life seeped away from these ancient deities.

It was sad, and all too often by-product of conquest. It was profitable too if you knew how to capture those shards of faith, the last lingering tendrils of a gods power.

Priscilla does. She's not one of the conquers, in fact, her people were once conquered, but she does follow after them. Waiting for things to get bad enough that the local gods are weak and she can pounce. They usually expire once she was done, when she robbed them of the last bit of their believer's love, they have nothing left to tie them to this plane and dissolve into the ether.

He didn't. Priscilla had miscalculated and this latest god had more juice than her previous victims. She didn't know what to do with him now, in mortal form demanding back his divinity.

Maeve · May 21, 2017, 01:50:55 PM

40) On Hold

"I don't want to know how you smuggled a cell phone into federal corrections."

He was teasing because he was surprised by the call. The former secretary of truly bad man he had been investigating for months calling him from behind bars was not something he had been expecting. The same woman who whenever he called made increasingly ridiculous excuses as to why her boss couldn't come to the phone or would just leave him on hold for hours at a time. It seemed that her allegiances had shifted since her boss sent her down the river for his crimes.

"Get me out of here and I'll tell you everything you need to know."

"Give me a minute to think it over," he told her, smirking into the phone as he muted her.

Maeve · August 13, 2017, 10:18:27 AM

41. New in Town

"You make all this money writing books for kids?" The escort asked, gesturing to Lauras perfectly arranged parlor, complete with lilies from the garden and bone china statues on the mantle.

"No," Laura replied, taking a delicate statue of a dog from her guest's hand and putting it back on the shelf, "I'm a commercial artist." The girl that showed up to her house had the same pretty eyes as the one in the picture, but there was no way she was 24. She was however different from her ex, which is why she had procured her services in a moment of lonely self-loathing.

"This," the girl points one more in general to her house, "All this came from drawing pictures."

"Um, listen it's not that I don't trust you, well I have just met you, but I don't want to suggest that you're a liar but you wouldn't happen to have some form of ID on you?"

The girl snorted and thrust her chin at Laura, those same beautiful eyes glassed and guarded, "You just ordered me off the net like a pizza, what do you care? We gonna do this, or what?"

Laura paused and looked the girl and her supple form over, thinking that she was just as bad as those suburban dads who cheat on their families and then thinking what the rest of her evening would be if she sent the girl off. Or what indeed.

Maeve · August 18, 2017, 09:23:17 PM

A Bride of Vengeance

"There is usually more discussion when it comes to peace negotiations," Magnus hissed at Dark Carol, shoving his bony fingers into his armpits to stave off the biting damp cold of McDaniels whiskey cellars.

"And bridesmaids and fluergirls aren't normally 'napped for the ceremony, but 'ere we are," she responded, only removing the damp end of her cigar once she had finished her statement. The bridesmaids in question were relatives of the groom, rather than the bride herself, and only now after a rare treat of champagne and fine nibbles did they realize something was amiss. It had been Susan's idea, in response to the Shrams heavy handed move into their territory.

"Don't they look a peach though," she grinned at Magnus, showing stained and juicy teeth, "Wouldn't know our families been havin' a...disagreement since Moses wore short pants, would ja?" Magnus merely held up his Roman nose and sniffed.

"When this over with Miss McDaniels, it is my fondest wish that we may never meet again. No offense meant."

Susan looked deep into the eyes of her intended, even though it appeared as though the lost secrets of the empire had written themselves on his shoes for as much as he studied them. Even though this was a marriage of business and convenience, she had every intention of being the best wife she could be. Afterall he had such pretty eyes. Her groom, on the other hand, couldn't figure out for the life of him what exactly she was smiling about

Maeve · October 01, 2017, 02:30:02 PM

42. Champion -

"What makes you think he'll come?" Her handmaiden asked her, "He hates you."

Princess Voladea, the last pagan princess, had been captured on a diplomatic mission. Her captor, in the most gentile of terms for a barbarian, had informed her that it was her hand or her head. She knew of his reputation and had no desire to wed him, to give him the use of her lands and men in his ceaseless wars. In a desperate act, older than any of their gods, she declared that she would only be won by combat and sent a message by raven to a man whom her kingdom had been in a standoff for decades. Her father and his, him and her, a deep-seated mistrust and hate that could not be overcome and went deeper than borders.

"He'll come," she told her sorrowfully, as the girl wrapped her shivering shoulders in a shawl of fine linen, "He has to."

"What if he doesn't win?"

It was only then that the princess began to cry.

Maeve · October 08, 2017, 10:29:04 PM

43. It's Just Biology - CRAVING

On her optimistic days, Elita would say that her life is unusual. She's an unusual alpha (female when 95% are male) with an unusual omega (male and built like an alpha) and she's about to pull herself up the social ladder by unusual (humiliating, degenerate) means.

On her more realistic days, she just says that she's screwed and has been since birth. Born with the wrong secondary gender and worse yet, the wrong class. They say slavery has been outlawed for centuries but voluntary indenture was the way they ran it past the censors. It's not voluntary and though technically the carrot is if you save your pennies you can be free one rainy day, modern society is poor soil for vegetables. The stick is the reality.

Elita belongs to an old and powerful family. Which means she lives on one of their crappy estates and works as a barista in an upscale office, her paycheck going for her upkeep and to pay off her families debt at the company store. It's dull and repetitive and the only way she makes it through the day is by cracking wise about the purgatory that is her life.

Least it was until she met Kade. Her mate (accidental, a moment of passion that still causes strife) was well known as a scrapper. An omega that refused to bow. He was older than her and more emotionally flawed. When most people meet them, they think that he's an alpha that had to date a beta due to economic hardship. Despite his black moods and the way he curses life, he makes her heart flare and all her instincts roar. Protect, love, claim. It's why she even considers doing what she's about to do.

Ryen's mother knows there's something wrong with him as soon as he hits puberty. He's an alpha that rejects omegas. There's an incident with a professional for his first rut. He bloodies her and sends her screaming from the heat den. It simply won't do for a boy from high society who needs to marry an omega of means and stature. Hope surges in her when he develops a crush on a girl from their social circle, a sweet and prim darling of the right genders and class. All seems to go well until she goes into heat and she has such high hopes until the next morning she finds the girl crying in the hallway and her son folded in on himself sobbing in the corner of a dark room.

He spends his next heat alone and destroys the den in rut madness. He injures himself the next time.

Something must be done. Omegas smell wrong, he tells her, tight-lipped and adolescent sullen, but he likes girls. If this gets out the scandal will be horrific. A beta would be bad enough but it has to be an alpha, as any beta he tried to mount would switch to an omega at the scent of him. Luck finally swings in their favor. They own a female alpha, one who is eager for the opportunity to better her lot in life.

She wants to sneer at this guttersnipe who thinks she's good enough for her son when clearly she doesn't even have the pride of an ordinary alpha, but her sons rut is approaching and he can't survive another one alone.

Maeve · October 29, 2017, 09:23:54 AM

44. Strange Unearthly Creatures

This one kinda has a plot? Something close to a plot? Mostly it's just an idea wrapped up in diamonds and lace, best viewed through an absinthe haze. I really want to do a dark fairy tale set in Belle Epoque Paris. Think all the grit and dark magic of Victorian England with a continental flair. A time of anarchists and Apaches (I'm not being racist, this was the term for the gang kids of the day and good lord did they have flair), of advances in forensics and analysis of criminal behavior, but also of occult groups and science. Full of new ideas steeped in traditions of old. Crippling poverty wrapped up with gold leaf.

I'm thinking there will be something like the Moulin Rouge (maybe a competitor?) where many of the characters work. Stories could include a courtesan who keeps her youth and beauty by sending her lover M. Bluebeard to kill and then scalp young women. She then weaves the dead girls hair into her own and their life force then becomes hers. A young dancer that brings down the house every night but despite her suitors sees only one man when the curtain comes down. The man who lovingly created her from the finest clockwork and spends his evenings oiling her gears. The girl that death loved. The heiress who is tricked into marrying the dwarf son of M. Bluebeard, who thinks she gets her happily ever after when a prince rescues her, only to find out that the true monster has a beautiful face and now lurks the underworld by night trying to find her first husband. An honest civil servant who learns the fate of the incorruptible as he's forced to serve a secret night court, advising the Angel of Death (Parisian division) on who should go to heaven and who to hell.

Have an idea? Want to weave in a historical event? I would love to hear from you.

Maeve · November 05, 2017, 12:50:08 PM

45. Booked but Never Charged

"You know why we called you in?" The detective asked. Must have been from out of town. He was too dapper to be a Brighton detective. They call him the 'Count' one of the younger maids had told her with a wistful romantic sigh.

"I suspect because a nun was done in in one of our cheaper suites," she replied crisply. He continued to stare at her as he pushed towards her a file. Her file.

"Not many women are arrested for witchcraft these days," he told her, tapping on her mug shot. She stared down at her younger face, dressed to the nines in spiritualist fare. She could do readings just as well in her normal clothes, but the audience expected a show. The photo was before the bombing that ripped apart her neighborhood. After that night she had a shock of grey hair at her temple. Trauma from the destruction her doctor had told her and she had not corrected him.

"I was never charged with it. Only Duncan was. I stopped when I saw how you boys treated her."

"You found her," he said, in reference to the nun, "Would you mind telling me what you saw?"

She pursed her lips. No, she did not want to tell him. He would never believe her. In fact, all she wanted to do was pack and get on the next train before that thing found her again.

Maeve · November 29, 2017, 07:50:19 PM

46. I Choose You To Consume Me -

He never thought his life would go this way, but he always kinda hoped. He's a scientist and not just a scientist but a mad genius out of a bond film and the brilliant mind behind many of the biohacks used by the military and private corporations alike. That makes him hot property and now he has an island, like an entire island, for him to test his theories and develop new projects. Course he's kept there so he's not head hunted and to make sure his work isn't stolen, but they see to all his needs and make sure he's very very happy.

Like the one little, not really important, but kinda core to his being about having beautiful women dominate him. It's nice that the guys he's making all this stuff keep bringing him beautiful hookers to do just that, the only problem is they can't leave. Which is fine. He has three gorgeous doms who do his bidding whenever he feels the itch, but no one to talk to and no matter how many times he tries to explain to them there's more to a woman than just sex and all this stuff is great but really just going through the motions and rather unfulfilling....it falls on deaf ears. He finds there is nothing sadder than a big man with a gun who looks equally confused and embarrassed by a topic they're trying to wrap their heads around.

Finally, in a moment of frustration with a product when he could really use a sympathetic ear, who realized how funny he was, that was also good with a riding crop, shouted at them that he needed a woman who could make him laugh and fuck him with a strap-on.

'This will be the last woman," his handlers told him, "They only get replaced if they leave in a body bag." He had been appalled at the sentiment but agreed. The process had taken longer than expected. It wasn't like they could use tinder for this. Then he had a eureka moment. Sara, the sweet temp that worked at his lab in San Fran, she thought he was funny and not in an I'm trying to shag my way to the top kind of way. They had worked together for 6 months and if he hadn't been transferred to Berlin he was going to ask her out. Sara would be perfect. Except for one thing. She wasn't a dom, like at all. Eh, he figured he could train her.

This is essentially a non con romance about a guy teaching a girl how to be his dom. If this is of interest, hit me up.

Maeve · December 08, 2017, 06:26:31 PM

47. The Boy in the Backyard - TAKEN

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

Delia likes to think of herself as a Jane Austen character. The promise of a happy ending with a man above her station and a small church in the country is the only way she manages day to day.

It's only been 6 months since her parents died in a car crash and she's been forced to live with her mother's cousins. She's the poor relation. The upscale suburb nothing like the Pittsburgh apartment she grew up in. Every day they make it clear that she's only allowed to stay out of duty. They gave her one of the smaller guest rooms, clothes from the new school year came from the thrift shop and she has to babysit for pocket money. This is nothing out of the norm for her old life, except that her cousins have rooms onto themselves, their clothes are all brand name and they had black visa cards. She's not the only outcast in the house. Their firstborn lost his WASP way during his senior year of high school, starting smoking pot and reading alternatives to the Wall Street Journal. They couldn't kick their darling boy out, but they minimize the scandal and sequester him in the old pool house until he found his way back to Yale and the polo club.

She continues to make the most of it, taking it one day at a time. It's dull and full of sorrow but manageable. That is until one autumn afternoon during a thunderstorm when the family was away for the evening and locked her out of the house. They're going to be gone for the weekend and there was no way she could spend three nights exposed to the elements. With a ball of sticky dread in her stomach, she knocks on the door to the pool house, hoping that he'll have an extra key or at least will let her get out of the rain.

Maeve · December 15, 2017, 09:56:29 PM

48. Pain with Patience - CRAVING

It is easier to find men who will volunteer to die, than to find those who are willing to endure pain with patience.

Now she cried. The fate of her sister wrenching from her the last bits of emotion she had buried. By the time she was called up, dragged up to the block by someone she didn’t know, her eyes were ringed red and her cheeks stained. She didn’t notice them hang the sign around her neck proclaiming her attributes. The auctioneer repeated them, going on about her talents, but she didn’t hear that either. Otherwise, she might have corrected him and added one a few points. Not that she was proud, but perhaps one of her unspoken talents would keep her in the neighborhood she had lived in for the past year. Beyond hope was that she would be close to her sister, or to the same doctor that Elpides was sold to. It was a foolish, wishful thought and she kept her eyes straight ahead, not looking at the crowd. At this point it was fate. She had no control over who was willing to put down coin for her, no more than a jug of wine or piece of jewelry and therefore no point in trying to find a friendly face amongst them.

She had to be prodded to remove her dress. It took a moment but she slid out one arm and then the other and let drop into a pool of cloth at her feet. The only time she registered anything was when breeze stiffened her nipples and she shivered. Numbers were being thrown around 5, 10, 25...didn’t matter. With her rounded hips, curved rump, ample bosom, and freckles she knew that she was not the ideal of Roman beauty and figured that this would be over with soon. Even with all her talents, what did that matter if she didn’t have almond eyes, thick eyebrows, and a small frame? Maybe a few extra coins for her red hair, but other than that.
Another prod and Ginette pulled back on her dress and dumbly followed behind the same man that had led her to the block, lead her to a holding pen.

She stood still as a statue, in the same place the slaver had left her until a deep baritone echoed around her.

“Pray over me Sister?”

That roused her. The same Gaul that had been tossing about the Roman was standing before her. His dialect from different from hers, but she understood him well enough and what he wanted. Death was coming, and luckily for him, she remembered the warriors blessing well.

“I interrupted before.”

Her smile seemed out of place, but it was enough to wake her out of her dower stupor. “It was worth it,” She told him, and in response, he sat at her feet and let her set his braids to right as she once again began her litany. Praying the gods would revel in his bravery and save a seat for him in the afterlife.

“Did you ever meet him?” he asked. There was only one him he could be referring to in such revered tones.

Vercingetorix

“Yes,” she responded, with equal respect.

“You’ll live longer than me little sister, make sure your children know his name.”

His owner came before hers and their exchange was brief, but it was enough to make her come to her senses. She was not dead yet and there were more challenges to face.
Then she caught sight of her new Master. No. No no no no no. She would gladly go with the lanista, looking after the Gladiators in any way he saw fit, or a lower end brothel, or ended up as a nursery maid, or a helper in some merchants shop, but to belong to legionnaire? Likely one who had been part of the conquest of her home and the destruction of her people and family, fate was indeed unkind.

This is a story about a Gaul who survived the siege of Cesar, through many unfortunate twists of fate she ends up in Rome, sold to Legionnaire who's fat from conquest looking to set up a happy home. It could go in many directions. I have a complete story for her, and her history could lend itself to any kind of tale we want to conjure. PM me if this is of interest.

I wouldn't mind doing a version of this story where her master is a Legionnaire or any of the following variations -

- A Patrician Woman
- A Gladiator School
- Set in Camp concerning Roman Generals - the plot would concentrate on her being a spy. She's been 'captured' by the Roman invaders and ends up in the bed of an influential general. He's a wealthy man and was once a great warrior but now is mostly here as a sign of respect for his dottering personage and overflowing gold and troops that keep the army moving. It seems that she's pulled the wool over his eyes with her sweet smile and gentle hands that soothe away his cares. She may have fooled him but not his heir, who is in charge in everything but name. She's a traitorous bitch, he just can't prove it, but he won't be distracted by that sweet smile, even if it's haunting his dreams. This basic plotline does not need to be set in this story - it could be Vikings and an Irish slave, could be fantasy, could be modern corporate espionage. CRAVING this one - PM if interested.

Maeve · December 30, 2017, 04:26:59 PM

49. Lightening on a Clear Day

He had no idea that he had a twin. Spent his entire life thinking that there was just one face like his in the world. It was an attractive one if he said so himself, his boyish grin and twinkling eyes were enough to get him out of scrapes with the law and into the beds of many pretty lasses, but not so uncommon and memorable that he can't ply his less than lawful trades. Until he comes to this rural pub in a strange new land and is greeted by scraping, bowing peasants who call him by a name not his own and treat him to the best they have to offer, all while scowling with fear whenever he approaches them.

His brother had unsavory habits, like impaling people and conquering every land he enters. Fate is strange, not only does he have a twin but he's a vicious warlord. Who is he to judge though? He's a hardly a saint himself. Which he proves by slitting his brother's throat in his sleep and taking over his empire. He's never been one to pass up an opportunity.

The princess had always been of the opinion that the greatest misfortune to a woman of wealth and property was relations. Her island kingdom is small but wealthy, all due to well maintained natural resources and well-run trade negotiations. Her greedy uncles and vicious aunts were now about to ruin the delicate ecosystem that made them all rich. She had been minding their pleasure for years, so they intended to marry her off that monster in order to plunder the treasury she held the keys to. She wondered if her betrothed, who had already gone through two wives, knew of their plan. He would no doubt do away with her as well, but the money would not go to him upon her death, but back to her closest living male relative. She hoped that when he received that nasty shock, he would impale all her relatives on one spike and have exercise the thrift they could not in life.

Arranged marriage and mistaken identities set in a violent fantasy world...who could ask for more?

Maeve · January 13, 2018, 07:08:48 PM

50. Reform School Girls

It was the worst of the worst under 21. If you were a bad girl, a dope slave, wore gang colors, or were just caught naughty this is where they sent you. There were stories of girls trying to swallow safety pins so they wouldn't have to see what lay beyond its doors. For those who did, they never came out the same.

I have a craving a cliche burdened 1950's nostalgic 1980's dystopian plot about, you guessed it, reform school girls. Don't really know where the story should go or if it would work better as a group game. But I know that I want girls with colorful spiked hair and razor chokers having to navigate separate gangs, sadistic wardens, and crazy nurses. PM your thoughts.

Maeve · January 23, 2018, 09:59:24 PM

Quote from: Maeve on October 29, 2017, 09:23:54 AM
44. Strange Unearthly Creatures

This one kinda has a plot? Something close to a plot? Mostly it's just an idea wrapped up in diamonds and lace, best viewed through an absinthe haze. I really want to do a dark fairy tale set in Belle Epoque Paris. Think all the grit and dark magic of Victorian England with a continental flair. A time of anarchists and Apaches (I'm not being racist, this was the term for the gang kids of the day and good lord did they have flair), of advances in forensics and analysis of criminal behavior, but also of occult groups and science. Full of new ideas steeped in traditions of old. Crippling poverty wrapped up with gold leaf.

I'm thinking there will be something like the Moulin Rouge (maybe a competitor?) where many of the characters work. Stories could include a courtesan who keeps her youth and beauty by sending her lover M. Bluebeard to kill and then scalp young women. She then weaves the dead girls hair into her own and their life force then becomes hers. A young dancer that brings down the house every night but despite her suitors sees only one man when the curtain comes down. The man who lovingly created her from the finest clockwork and spends his evenings oiling her gears. The girl that death loved. The heiress who is tricked into marrying the dwarf son of M. Bluebeard, who thinks she gets her happily ever after when a prince rescues her, only to find out that the true monster has a beautiful face and now lurks the underworld by night trying to find her first husband. An honest civil servant who learns the fate of the incorruptible as he's forced to serve a secret night court, advising the Angel of Death (Parisian division) on who should go to heaven and who to hell.

Have an idea? Want to weave in a historical event? I would love to hear from you.

A new plot to add to this one -

She was beautiful and very, very, very dead. The opera would be sold without its great star, to that ghastly American no doubt. Not because of her singing voice, or what she passed for talent but because of her benefactor. A benefactor that would want blood for whoever was responsible. Thankfully the girl had a doppelganger, one of the girls in the chorus, and she would buy them time to discover the cause of this murder most foul.

It's set in Paris, there has to be a plot at the Opera House.

Maeve · January 28, 2018, 11:24:01 PM

51. The Heart Consumed

There's a secret room in the Vatican...or is it Parliment...perhaps under Wall Street? The men who enter seem to be from all nations, all creeds, all colors, the only thing they have in common is power. They are powerful, wealthy men, with enough sway to bend creatures of the night to their will. They had discovered sometime in the middle ages that Vampire blood, when distilled, could extend their lives and rejuvenate their spirits. It's an exclusive secret, one shared with only a few deemed worthy.

The payment system is simple. Blood for blood. Pick a lady of the night, pun intended, and do with her as you wish. Her only payment comes in the form of food. Sate their unholy appetite and they shall do the same for their callers.

Course the system isn't perfect. As Helene finds out when her dinner wakes up with a brand new pair of fangs. It's been decades since they've had a new vampire in the brothel and something tells her sire, she'll be nothing but trouble.

Didn't want to flesh out too much of a plot. Wanted to give it space to breathe just in case this became a group game. I'm thinking a love triangle in there somewhere. Pm me if this inspires.

Maeve · February 20, 2018, 12:13:34 AM

52. Something to Come Home To

"Well, what's he doing then?" Her future father in law asked his tone just this side of exasperated.

"He's mowing the lawn," she whispered, gingerly peaking out behind the curtain and ducking back before he could spot her. All she got for her concern was a barking laugh and a "Tell him to do mine next".

"This isn't funny," she whined, hating the sound of her voice, "He just showed up and I'm pretty sure he's the cop that put Marcus away."

"Now listen girl, Marcus can do two years on his head and if you want to be part of this family you're going to have to prove you can do. He's probably one of the pigs on the payroll and Marcus sent him to keep an eye on you."

"I don't like it," she protested, nearly jumping out of her skin when Marcus Jr. started crying. Nap time was over it seemed. "Can't me and the baby come stay with you and Pam?"

Even though she knew he covered the end of the phone she still heard Pam call out 'That whore ain't coming here' loud and clear.

"What more do you want? We gave you the house didn't we?"

"Yes," she said hesitantly, lifting the edge of the curtain again. A stone dropped in the bottom of her belly. He was stopped mowing and was staring at her. He grinned and blew her a kiss. With a gasp, she dropped the curtain. "Please," she tried again only to have him tell her to be strong before he hung up the phone. Even though her lifeline was gone she clutched the mobile just in case as she rushed from one door to the next to make sure they were locked before barricading herself into the nursery. Her baby was crying and clutched him to her shaking frame.

There was a knock at the door.

Despite the ominous tone of the description, this is another story that could be either sweet and light or dark...probably still sweet though. It's either a tale of wooing or possession. If it inspires, pm me.

Maeve · March 30, 2018, 06:35:37 PM

53. What We Lose in the Fire

V1.

"Why should I care?" He asked, tapping a Sterling against a cigarette case that cost more than Violet Fizz made in a year.

"Cause it was your club," Vi insisted, stamping down on knock-off black pumps that rocked in protest.

"Now it's my insurance check," He said, blowing out more smoke into the acrid atmosphere that was once the most happening night spot for girls like her and boys that liked girls like her. "Say, what are your tits made out of?"

"Help me find who lit the match and you can find out."

V2.

"So you're like one of those broads that talk to the dead?"

"There's no trick in talking to the dead, handsome. It's getting the dead to talk back and I make them awfully chatty. " Chakara told him, pulling the various tools of the trade off, fake coins tinkling.

"I need someone who talks to the dead, for my boss."

His boss, the boss of the underworld. The one this shop was in hock to. Rumor had it he had started to be tormented by all those who had wronged, especially those he had put in the ground before their time.

"I could do that, but you need to do something for me baby boy. There's someone picking off my friends and I need a bad man do bad things."

So, it originally started out as one story and then another plot jumped out at me along the same lines but didn't really work mashed together... Anyway, that's why there's Version 1 and Version 2. Another thing about these plots, I don't think I'm necessarily qualified to play any of the parts. However, if you like any of these and want to play them, pm me I would love to read your work! Also, for some reason I see this story set in the 1980's but do what you want.

Maeve · April 15, 2018, 12:45:03 PM

54. Serial Killer Small Talk - TAKEN

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

The rhythm didn't soothe the savage beast, not today. Today it beat out the raging, swirling ugly thoughts in her head. The ones that made skin feel too tight and thinner than paper, ready to be ruptured at any time by that damn silver bracelet welded onto her right wrist.

She was dancing with the mop by the time her favorite song came on.

"I didn't know you liked music," he said behind her, locking the door. She flushed red and then turned the radio off, "I like it when you're not here."

He didn't respond. His silence her only inclination that he was upset by her insult. "I'm hungry," he told her petulantly. Just like that, whatever protection spell the music had cast broke into a million bloody shards.

In retrospect, she calls herself a dumb bitch for not recognizing the signs earlier. That no flags were raised when he asked her personal questions, his deep, still eyes searching for confirmation of the truth. That he only came into the bookstore at night. That despite the fact that he was awkward and kinda creepy, he had no trouble leaving with whatever girl he wanted.

She had brushed it off. He was good conversation once she got over the initial heebie-jeebies he gave her and nights at the bookstore could be long and dull even for a night owl like herself. Eventually, she felt almost safe when he was around. There was something quiet and unsettling about him, but she didn't mind when he directed it at some of the less desirable elements that stumbled into the store after dark. As to him asking whether she had family (no, not that she spoke to), whether she lived along (no, she had her cat and parakeet), and what her plans for the future were (future? what future? can't afford school and despite her bookworm ways she had been a shit student anyway. Figured she would just work here until they sold her the place or people stopped reading entirely), she figured it was because he was socially inadequate and had boundary issues. Nothing out the ordinary when many of her customers were also varying levels of socially awkward. Hell, who was she to judge? She was bad at boundaries to, but she just never let anyone get beyond hers and if they tried she would wrap herself up in a cloak of thorns, or a really snarky comment. As to him using the store as his meat market? It wasn't like he was unattractive and obviously the vibe he had worked for him. It wasn't like all of those girls disappeared.

No, none of those things raised a red flag. Life went on as it always did. Until one random Friday night, when she was finishing a book on the Haymarket Riots and seriously craving Ramen, he came in more agitated than normal. Her stomach sank. He was going to ask her out, she knew it. She was already prepping her speech in her head, the one where she would let him down gently. Tell him that she could only commit to herself and even though she really liked having him come in and keep her company it just wouldn't work between them. Or she could do what she really wanted and throw the book at his head while she yelled at him for ruining their friendship, cause there was no way that they would be able to go back to the easy camaraderie that they had both worked so hard for.

Instead without saying a word, he laid down a silver bracelet with his name engraved on a bed of filigree.

"Holy fuck, you're a vampire."

So unwilling thrall/unconventional vampire story. I have a hankering to play the F character in this but I could be persuaded to play the M role.

Maeve · April 22, 2018, 08:07:40 PM

55. The Outlaw and the Gravedigger

It wasn't his fault that they hadn't taken him seriously. That his cousin's friends decided to insult and when he responded in kind demanded satisfaction. He had never held gun a before he agreed to pistols at dawn.

As a medical student, he knew what would happen to his body upon his death. The punishment for those who died in duels was dissection, a fate and shame he would not put his mother through. So we went to the one women he knew was comfortable with corpses. He purchased them often enough from her. He gave her gold, what little he had and told her to intercept his corpse before his fellow students could get their hands on him.

It wasn't his fault that they showed up drunk and that their bullet struck a tree while his hit home. Duels were illegal but between gentlemen, charges were overlooked. It seems he was not considered one of them and now with a price on his head he finds himself in circles and a profession he never thought possible.

"Highwayman is a good look on you," she tells him, "How will you spend your time before they catch you and make you dance on the gallows?"

"Revenge, you want to help?"

Only half a plot on this one. I just really like this pair for some reason.

Maeve · May 07, 2018, 10:26:40 PM

56. Go Questing They Said - CRAVING

This was not the nerdiest thing that she had ever done for Thad, but it was damn near close.

They had been friends for years, ever since she bloodied the nose of their communal bully in second grade and had been thick as thieves ever since. Their town was too small to support various communities of freaks, geeks, and outcasts, so they hung out together even though they were more different than they were the same. She was an outspoken artist and aspiring photojournalist. Thad on the other hand, Thad liked dragons and Sci-Fi and animes with disproportionately build females.

Still, he had shown up (in a suit!) to her one and only art exhibit in her hometown before she headed off to the University of Oregon and argued (loudly) with her teacher who called her 'needlessly provocative' to cover up her lack of talent. So yeah, when he wanted to do the Medieval VR at their D.A.R.E. sponsored after-prom event, she agreed.

It was obvious that something was wrong, not just that they had been 'beamed down' with the Prom King and Queen and the Class President. It was too...real.

They were supposed to be in a badly pixelated castle fighting blocky knights and rescuing a blonde stereotype. Instead, they were in a forest so real that she could spell the worms in the earth and feel the shade of the ancient trees. The others are marveling at the technology but her and Thad, they're trying to figure out how to get back. When they all realize that they're stuck, that's when they start freaking out. Maybe it's a dream? Why would I dream you? Maybe someone spiked the punch? Didn't drink it, I'm not poisoning my body with high fructose corn syrup. We only paid for an hour, maybe it will only last an hour?

It lasted for longer than an hour. She's not sure how old she is now - late 20's, early 30's?

It's almost fun for the first year. Thad was in his element. It's live action D&D and all his research for campaigns was paying off. It was wacky hijinks on good days and moral lessons in friendship and understanding on bad. Even if this is all a fever dream they could have a few adventures before they go back to the real world.

It lasts until Thad takes an arrow in the chest. It's not in an epic battle against a big boss. It's running from bandits over a stolen lute. She held him when he died two weeks later of what she can only guess was a staph infection.

It's not fun after that. It's harrowing. They're fighting hunger daily and her teeth are starting to wiggle by the time winter comes around. For a flickering moment, she thought that hardship would bring them together rather than them selling her for a few lousy loaves of bread and a ratty blanket that she hopes is infested with plague.

She's exotic and growing up with a decent diet makes her prettier than most, so she ends up in the royal harem rather mucking out stables or in the local brothel. She fears the worst but no lord comes to act the worst scenes of a bodice ripper. She's left alone, to wander, to read, to learn. At least until his younger brother comes back from some war she had no idea was going on. He spends a year undressing her with his eyes, finding reasons to catch her alone, and doing everything he can to overcome her objections. It seems that the concept of her as a person with the ability to say no doesn't occur to him but what does give him pause is that she belongs to his brother.

Until that winter festival that is. She's a fucking Christmas, or whatever they call it here, present. By New Years she's in a new castle with a new...lord. That year her resolution is to escape. She does, it takes time and a great price but she makes it out and runs back to the forest.

She isn't looking for the fuckers who sold her, she hopes that their bones are bleached by now. She isn't even really looking for a way back. She's looking for...well not exactly for what finds her. A group of rebels fighting an even barbaric king in the South than the one they're living under now. With little choice available, she teams up with the 'Merry Men' (even if they don't get her pop culture references) and learns how to shoot a bow. In a few years, she's a master at that and guerrilla warfare in general. Things are going well. She's found a cause worth dying for and a group of guys that she thinks she can call friends.

Until that one cold autumn morning, not unlike the day that her friends betrayed her. There's a visitor at their camp, a royal one. A prince that wants their help defeating their mutual enemy, one that he has faced before.

She's tight-lipped when he pulls his horse up next to hers, waiting for him to explain his presence there. Had he been looking for her? Was he going to try to take her back?

"You haven't asked. Do you care?" He murmured, not meeting her eyes.

"About what?"

"Your son."

Maeve · July 15, 2018, 09:17:33 AM

57. Chains as Fine as Spiders Silk -

She's his favorite patient by far. Her gothic tragic past, which rivals any of the heroines in those penny dreadfuls she loves, calls to the romantic in him. So much so that when he gets a position as head doctor of a country asylum he takes her with him. Since he can't cure her, he can at least make sure that she dies in fresh air and away from the sin of London that doomed her.

'Are you witch or are you fairy,' she hums as she wanders the lower levels of this converted ancient estate. Here the white tile gave way to cold glinting stone and the cool air is welcome on her fevered skin. She needs this respites. The time alone to think and escape her doctors smothering care. He's kind enough, even if she knows what men like him truly want. To repressed to ask or admit to themselves that there are claws hidden in their kindness. It's not like she can turn down whatever affection he bestows on her. This is better than wasting away and then being swept out with the rest of London's filth.

She coughs, fresh blood spatters across the floor and her chest burns like hellfire. Clutching her chest and using those same unforgiving stones for support she limps back upstairs to her doctor's tender mercies. She never notices the curling black smoke behind her or the golden eyes that follow her.

Maeve · July 20, 2018, 10:50:00 PM

58. The Lady and The Cowboy - CRAVING

She's the good one, the proper one. She's a lady. Her sisters say it's easy for her. She's not much too look at and with a personality to match, she just doesn't know how hard it is to resist temptation when it comes calling. Even her father tells her to be grateful for her dowry, otherwise, she'd end up a spinster or worse she'd have to learn how to type.

She's certainly not the sister who would end up in bed with a cowboy who she met in a Parisian gin joint the night before. The only thing that makes her not slink away from the red-stained sheets is the cheap tin ring on her finger. That finger.

It was something, she supposed, that even in her godforsaken state she had insisted that he marry her. It would be a scandal but she would have to get it annulled. Perhaps if she moved quickly it would only be a ripple and not a tidal wave. After all, no one really believed what young women did in France.

"Mornin' Darlin'," he drawled, kissing her shoulder and she suddenly remembered why she had said yes when he asked. "Having regrets?" He asked, running his thumb over the ten cent ring.

She's not sure what to say. He's handsome in the milky morning light, wearing nothing but that lazy smile and she can't think of a single regret.

When they step out of the car and are greeted by the myriad of servants at her families grand estate and her father's scowling face, then she can think of several. He stands out like a sore thumb and rubs every member of her family the wrong way. Her mother snaps at her that she's a fool, he only wants her for her money and let's see how long he hangs around when she only has herself to offer. Her father makes note of his every misstep. Her sisters laugh behind their hands. Her heart still thumps every time he looks at her.

The only one who is friendly with him is her cousin and greets him like an old friend.

"I say, old chap when I told you my family would be happy to have you I didn't think you'd take it so literally."

"I don't think your Uncle feels the same way."

"That's only because you haven't told him how your family owns most of Texas."

"He ain't gonna yet either."

"No?"

"I want to make sure she loves me before she knows she's married to a millionaire."

"Show off," he laughed and passed him a Martini.

I'm in the mood for a screwball romance. Hit me up if you are too.

Maeve · July 29, 2018, 04:09:30 PM

59. Occupational Hazzard

"What we got tonight?" He asked his camera at the ready.

"'Nother dead whohoor," the uniform told him as he let past the tape, "Not really worth your time."

The whore in question was laid out on the sidewalk, a beautiful corpse circled in chalk and men with pencils. Another night in the city, another body. An occupational hazard for a working girl to meet the wrong trick, maybe the beat was right and he should go see if that robbery two blocks away had better snaps. Cept the body on the ground isn't just another whore, it's his whore. Suzie and him had been regular since before he could afford her, every other Thursday except for high holidays.

It's a Wednesday night and he's taking pictures of her rapidly cooling corpse.

It's Thursday night and he's drunk when she shows up. Literally, one moment he's bleary-eyed in his dark room and the next she's sitting on his desk in a dress to die for.

"Shouldn't you be at the pearly gates?" He slurred.

"And miss our Thursday, over my dead body," she smiles and crosses her legs. God she had great legs, he thought, reaching out to rest his hand on her knee. All he gets is an awkward half fall to the wood of his desk.

"Plus you still owe me a sawbuck."

"You came back for a debt Suz?"

"Consider it a retainer," the ghost tells him, "You're going to find out who killed me."

"So who killed you?"

Suzie opens her mouth but nothing comes out, she tries again before she shrugs, "I can't tell you outright. Not how it works, but I can tell you to go talk to Detective Warren."

"Warren?" He sneered, taking a long swig from the bottle of gin, "I fucking hate that guy."

This story came out of binge-watching film noir and reading up on Weegee (who obviously inspired the photographer). Got a hankering for smoke-filled bars, no good dames and gin-soaked talent? Send me a wire babydoll.

Maeve · August 03, 2018, 09:52:07 PM

60. Just His Lady - CRAVING

"Fine, don't tell me," she says, throwing up her hands.

"I've told you," he responds as he brings out the first loaves of the morning.

"Yes," she smirks and her voice drops to a theatrical whisper as though the walls have ears, "You're a bastard prince, the scrouge of your kingdom who had to flee in ignominy once they grew fearful of all the destruction in your wake." Her voice jumped back to normal as she crossed her arms and glared at him, "Which is why rather than go and conquer your own kingdom you've married a baker and are content to live out your days in a tiny, provincial coastal village."

He tapped her on the nose and kissed her forehead, "That's right. In this whole wide world, you're the only good decision I've ever made."

The main plot of this story would be when his kingdom finds that they need a man they once considered too ruthless to rule and the baker finds out exactly who she married.

Maeve · August 25, 2018, 09:33:47 PM

One Ring To Turn The Tables

Once upon a time, her family had performed for Kings. Now her meager Carnivale can barely feed themselves and the animals. The performers only half-joke that they would be fed to the lions and tigers, as the animals are more precious than them when the times comes.

She's a widow and at her wits end. It seems her husband, the inspired match her father had conjured for her, had been a con man of epic proportions and had left them with less than nothing. It seems that it will all come to an end sooner than she would like to admit until a man shows up. One that wears the face of her dead husband but has the smile of the devil.

"What if I told you I could make it all real? No more tricks. The magicians would perform real magic, the horse with a horn glued to its head would be a unicorn and acrobats would really fly."

Her heart stopped and without hesitation, she nodded. "Where do I sign?" She asked, knowing full well the script to any morality tale. He took her hand, slid on a ring and said: "Till Death or debt do we part."

Maeve · September 10, 2018, 07:46:36 PM

Vulnerable

She's always been a little off. A little strange. Sweet, but strange. 'Away with the fairies', as the cook used to say. Still, she's the favorite child of the Master of the estate's mistress and therefore is left to roam the woods and the garden. Never bothered by tutors or suitors, never asked to join the dull working world of adults. That is until everything ended. The Master died, as did his mistress when their carriage overturned. The servants were asked to leave and the estate remained empty, except for her wandering the grounds like a ghost.

That's what he thinks she is when he first sees her. Some sprite, like the kind found in the stories his Uncle used to tell him or maybe a siren from his fellow sailor's tales. It isn't until she sits at his knee like a faithful hound that night before a raging fire that he realizes the estate he inherited comes with other perks.

Maeve · October 08, 2018, 12:59:05 PM

61. Mortal Instinct - CRAVING

'Aren't you too old to be a vampire?' Is something that Claudette gets asked at least twice a year, and has been for the past century and a half. As though she had no right to immortality since she did not obtain it when she was a bouncy twenty-something or a stately woman in her early thirties that could hide the damage of gravity through sheer glamour. Instead, she was given the bite on the cusp of her 40th decade by an admirer of her work. Little had she known as she entertained her newest patron that evening that when he spoke of the wonder of the Sistine Chapel, he remembered when the walls were blank. After too much conversation that sparkled as brightly as the champagne that she lamented how she felt the weight of how little time she had, and how much she wished to paint, sculpt and draw forever.

Be careful what you wish for. Her patron had made it so she could create for centuries to come but she would do so in his service, one boring portrait at a time. She's displeased him lately, so she's fallen so far down the food chain that she's being given the scraps. At least that's all she can think when her new houseboy is delivered. Recently released from prison and not fit for human company but deemed suitable to clean her gutters and open a vein on demand.

Another unconventional thrall story. Let me know if it inspires.

Maeve · November 03, 2018, 09:24:44 PM

62. Sale of Stolen Goods

Metas, Mutants, 'Differently Powered Individual', call them whatever you want, he just calls them profit. They're easy to get ahold of. Most of them can't really control their powers, or don't want to or think that these gifts they've received are substitutes for brains and they can restart their pathetic lives as supervillains. Means they end up prisons, insane asylums, rehab, or other vulnerable spots where his agents can snatch them up for the block.

Payday is every six months or so, depending on stock, and it is an event. Strictly black tie. With every nefarious but well-heeled soul in search of special powered bodyguards, courtesans, assassins, or more niche purchases in attendance. Where the poor lost souls end up? If the check clears, what the fuck does he care?

I've been binge watching shows with superpowers and this trope keeps popping up. Course the day is saved before anyone is sold in these family-friendly entertainments, so I'd like to do a plot about the aftermath. Unlike my other plots, I don't really have a character in mind. If you do, or if you want to see this as a group game and are willing to gm, hit me up.

Maeve · November 30, 2018, 09:38:43 PM

63. Fortuna Bound

It's hard to beat a man with when he has the goddess of fortune on his side.

The Warlord that has ravaged his country is said to have her displayed naked in a gilded cage in his throne room and as long as he possesses her shall never know defeat. Their graveyards attest to how many have tried.

Jase is no warrior but with his brothers dead and the future of his village bleak, he thinks it's his duty to at least try. Even if it means his life. Brawn has failed and since Jase lacks military skill he sticks with the gifts he does have. He's limber, cunning and can tell a good tale. He won't last minute in the brutes court if he comes at him with a sword, but with a joke and a set of juggling balls? Seems the warlord likes a chuckle. As does the most beautiful woman he's even seen, trapped in a cage at the pleasure of her master.

This should be easier than he thought. Lull the warlord into trusting him and then make away with his prize. Except he has competition. The Warlord already has a fool, one who seems quite content in her position.

Maeve · December 06, 2018, 07:56:07 PM

Abandoned by Reason - Looking for a new Loki- TAKEN

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

Two points before we begin -

1. I normally don't do fandoms. I usually prefer original storylines (Don't believe me? Check out my request thread and if anything tickles your fancy, drop me a line), which is why even though this story does have canon characters, don't feel like we have to follow canon storylines. The one exception to this is Loki's exile and eventual return.

2. This is with Jag's blessing. I originally started doing this story with them, however, they can no longer continue. I love this story and character and am dying to pick it up where it left off. That does not mean that I don't think the story will change with someone else playing Loki. I am excited to see how things change with a new author, that being said there are certain plot points I would like to keep.

A brief synopsis of this plot is that Thor worried over Loki's ever withdrawn nature sends Eira, a poor but pretty court climber, to his chambers in hopes of luring him out to a feast. There is a miscommunication and Eira ends up spending the night in his chambers instead. That should be the end of it, however, the next day Loki discovers Thor's involvement in his tryst and decides to take his revenge on Eira. Tricking her into thinking he's fallen for her, all the while plotting her eventual disgrace and banishment from polite Asgardian society.

This, of course, proves more complicated than he thought. In the end, their relationship is not revealed by him but causes the same outcome. In fact, he's outdone himself. By the time he's exiled, she's declared a traitor.

That is about the middle of the story.

Here is the story so far. I would love it if we could just start from the last post. If you're interested PM me.

https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=286111.msg14079191#msg14079191

Maeve · January 12, 2019, 09:00:14 PM

64) Now that I am Beautiful -

It had started when her father, in the same foolish vein of Lear, had asked each of his daughters how they loved him. Her sisters had said more than rubies and pearls, gold and materials things, the stars in their heavens and life itself. She had said as meat loves salt.

For that, she became Cap o' Rushes. Turned out of doors and without a farthing, she became a scullery maid in a lords house many miles from her home. Disguised in coarse materials, her pretty face is unknown the lord's son, and her once white hands chap under hard labor.

The come the balls. Where she catches his eye in dresses that outshine the moon, then sparkle like the stars and finally one as brilliant as the sun. He tracks her down, discovers her despite straw that covers her face and her grease-stained smock and claims her as his bride once he finds that she is not just a beauty, but a noble one.

A fairy tale ending to her months of hardship.

Except she can't forget the names he called her, how he shoved and abused her and how he continues to do so to the other servants now that she is his wife.

Another not quite so happily ever after...

Maeve · January 26, 2019, 11:04:42 PM

Simple & Clean

He had first been brought to the madhouse against his will and had planned to escape in dramatic fashion in front of one of the doctors. Turn into a bat or fog, something that would make them question their long held beliefs.

That was until he realized what a pot of jam he had landed in. No one believed the patients when he nibbled on them. There were no angry mobs with pitchforks after him and the kitchen never used spices, let alone garlic.

There was her as well. The maid who cleaned up after the lunatics. The mad beauty was a patient herself but once he convinced her, she would be his immortal bride and his kingdom would be complete.

Maeve · March 01, 2019, 09:58:49 PM

65. Hero's Made of Celluloid

Her boss is The Hawk. A suave spy who protects his adopted homeland from foreign agents who wish to destroy the American way of life with a dry wit and cunning plan. At least he is in the movies. The only thing he really shares with his on screen persona is that neither of them every met a Martini they didn't like.

It doesn't stop the overflow of fan mail that comes in daily. Part of her job is to reply to each letter. Most just require a signed head shot.

Some though, they're pleas for help.

She should have ignored them. She's not sure why she doesn't. Maybe it's cause she misses who she was during the war. Or maybe she picked up something on the front. It's the only explanation that she can come up with of why her newest hobby is vigilantism.

1940's superhero plot line - if you have a hankering for a Peggy Carter story line I might talked into turning this into a fandom - if not but this still strikes your fancy let me know and we'll hammer out a story.

Maeve · March 31, 2019, 08:09:23 PM

She watched him from the window every day. He is the one shining ray of light in an otherwise dreary life. Her husband was already old by the time she married him, an old associate of her father who was kind enough to save her from poverty. Now that she's been a wife from a decade her husband is ancient and overdue for the touch of the reaper. He thinks that his longevity is due to the keeping out the world and so the doors and windows were closed and she becomes her own jailor.

He is free. Poor but free. She makes up stories about him. That he is a gypsy, that he is one of the good people, that he is a magical merchant and his wares do marvelous things. That this poor boy is a prince in disguise and has put aside his royal finery to court her, a woman below his station that had snagged his heart. It's the way she spends her mornings. She never imagines that he would knock on her door.

Maeve · April 14, 2019, 04:05:04 PM

66. CI Benefits

The pills don't work for everyone. That's the rub. They're working on improvements to the formula but for the 30% of the population that don't fit the ideal mold, well fake it till the next generation that might work for you. Hopefully there won't be side effects.

Like not working and turning your previously standard sex drive up to 11. It's not that sex is outlawed in their great state, but it's kept in it's place. It's a physical necessity for optimal health. Like a jog or prostate exam. It certainly had nothing to do with desire, or lust. Heaven forbid love.

Love was replaced with duty decades ago.

She had been behaving, she pleaded to the judge. She'd been a normal girl, trying her best to get a position under the Crown Council as a field educator. She'd been taking her pills, it wasn't her fault that her pills turned her into a sex crazed bohemian. Didn't she deserve mercy?

Turned out mercy was making her a tool for the police. To avoid being declared redundant she was used to infiltrate resistance groups, to sniff out hidden stores of art, underground concerts and to make sure the orgies she found herself were fully underway by the time her handler screamed 'this is a raid'. He would remind her of her duty and thank her of her service but all she wanted to do was curl up in his arms and ask for him to comfort her. She was getting worse, not better. It didn't help that his eyes were starting to soften when he looked at her, that his hands lingered when he pulled her away from the other prisoners and the perfunctory pat on the head at the end of each mission was starting to sound a lot like praise.

Think a XXX version of Equilibrium.

Maeve · May 12, 2019, 07:43:29 PM

Of Preys & Strays

Man is the most dangerous game...but maybe not the poor collection of creatures that his master has him bring to his private hunting reserve. It's been a family tradition for years, passed down father to son. How the men of the Zandorf family prove that they've manhood. So he goes to the city and rounds them up - the drunkards, lunatics, orphans of foreign wars and syphilitic whores. The ones that won't be missed.

He didn't like it. He wouldn't step foot in church even on Christmas Day but he always said a pray at the crossroads every time he goes to get the latest batch.

This year though, it's time to put an end to sin. Been ten years coming. Since the hunt where she had beaten at his door begging to be let in. A clap of thunder muffled the sound of the slamming door as he deprived the men on horseback of their prey. It had been her who hatched the plot. To take a few of the healthier ones, the ones that look like their survive the winter and nurse them like a viper in the counts bosom. This year when his first born would make his first kill and prove himself worthy of his fathers title, they would be waiting in the woods.

Maeve · May 23, 2019, 07:43:05 PM

67. Spirit Within the Hand

"She was as beautiful as I am ugly," Her patron finally said, the red curtain pooled at her feet as she looked at the canvas with wistful sorrow. St. Euphemia was a good choice for a theme, she conceded, it allowed for this final monument not to be gruesome but didn't hide the violent evidence of her death, even if the lions refused to eat her the Romans had tortured her for days before. Genevieve was a beautiful girl, whose pretty face had attracted the worst sorts. She should know, she used to attract them too. If possible she was more scandalous than her fallen friend. She would pose for portraits and sculptures, for any artist looking to conjure up a vision of Venus in a new nubile muse. Her last lover made sure she no longer looked like Venus. Thankfully she was already married to a none to interested husband. He was content sopping up her family fortune at her Uncles hunting lodge, hoping he'd be mentioned in the will. He left her to forge a name for herself at Versailles. She wasn't just supping on the pleasures of the flesh when she posed, or wasted hours in sensual delight with the artists when they finally dropped their brushes, she was learning. She honed her talent to surpass many of the men who wished to capture her beauty for themselves.

Her patron, crudely known as the ugly duchess, made sure to keep her in work and she repaid her with loyalty. To the point that she braved the morgues of Paris to retrieve her daughters body so as to re imagine her as a saint. To craft her injuries as the brutal lashings of martyr suffering for her faith, rather than the wear of the river as she drunkenly feel down the stairs.

Or so she had thought.

"How did you get those?" She asked her model. A prostitute of high regard she had only managed to book due to her recovering from an attack.

"My man came at me with a knife," she said, "Ruin your painting?"

"No, they just look distinctive."

Genevieve had had those marks.

Set in Versailles at the Affair of the Poisons, this story follows a young artist as she tries to solve the murder of her friend who bit off more than she could chew.

Maeve · June 02, 2019, 10:15:47 PM

68. You Have to Fight for Love

"You don't have to love him," Her mother snapped, tugging on her hair as she tried to shape it into something flirty. "All you need to do is get him to sign the contract."

"By marrying him, Mom." Her voice cracked at the end, "He's crazy, he'll kill me."

Her mother squeezed her shoulders, "Honey, they all seem crazy. You know what your brothers are like. Your father was worse when I met him." She sighed deeply "This is important, we wouldn't ask if it wasn't."

"I know Dad will do anything to keep the best fighters, but auctioning off his daughter seems a bit much."

"It's not just about the talent dear, it's about the business. We don't get this kid, we're going to lose the club. Everything your father and grandfather worked for. Just keep that in mind on your date tonight."

Arranged marriage? Kinda. Beauty and the Beast? Sorta. Samson and Delilah? Sure.

This could be about boxers, wrestlers, or something along those lines.

Maeve · June 28, 2019, 09:28:57 PM

69. Broken Clocks

As soon as she sees it in the kitchen she scrambles to gather up the young princes and make good their escape. The boys argue with her, unhappy that she's pulling them away from the first feast they're allowed to attend. They're both dressed up as warriors, with red brocade jackets and small gold crowns on their heads. Some loud and obnoxious courtier had slapped them on the back as he pushed tankards of ale into their hands, telling them that they were men now and would see bloodshed soon. They try to resist her as she pulls them away but she pays them no mind, nor to the scene she is likely causing. That she's attracting the attention of their Uncle. All she can see is the bulls head, it's tongue lolling out of its mouth and it's eyes glassy as the blood pooled into the silver plate.

The most galling thing about ending up in a stinking cell in some godforsaken backwater wasn't the food (it was like they never heard of spices), or the damp (did it ever stop raining?), or the greeting he would get upon his arrival back to civilized lands (Gordio did love an 'I told you so') no, it was that these misbegotten, backwards, uncultured barbarians had real magic. He had sashayed himself across the continent on twin powers of charm and slight of hand. Always one step ahead of the law if he couldn't dazzle it and his aristocratic patrons, leaving them both panting for more as he took off with their jewels and their ladies virtue before any became the wiser. He had been trained by the most talented of huckster adventurers. There wasn't a scam he didn't know. Turning lead into gold, contacting the dead, that he was a seer of unseen wisdom, before he reached his tenth year he was convincing the local magistrates that he was a new Ambrose the Wonder Child and by the time he was twenty he had been through thirteen different titles, everything from Colonel to Cardinal. This was supposed to be two weeks of easy comfort at a quaint antiquarian fortress, seducing the lasses, joining in some hunts and wowing the locals with the wit of enlightenment, before he returned warmth of the continent. All he had to do was best their local charlatan whom he was sure was some outdated, moth eaten alchemist peddling some scheme so old it had whiskers on it and he was home free. Except what he met was not a magician, but a real live witch. He was great but even he wasn't that good. The penalty for failure was death which would be his fate if he didn't make it out of here. Thankfully where luck deserted him his own talents did not and while his rough hewn guard was anxious to snag a mutton chop from the feast, he snagged the key to his cell. Or, as he tries for the 15th time, so he had thought.

The only safe way out of the castle now is through the dungeons. She practically flies with the boys behind her, no longer resisting as the danger became apparent. She needs to get them out, or they'll end up missing their heads just like the bulls. It's the only reason she's listening to the fa de da that came to steal their silver and squeeze them of their hospitality assuming that they were nothing more than country bumpkins.

"C'mon, it's just over there," he gestured to the key hanging at the other side of the room, "Free me from my cage and I'll free you from yours," he said, holding up the key he had previously knicked from the guard, "Or I'll yell. Maybe I'll even be commended for my loyalty."

A questing story of a rogue and witch trying to save the lives of the true heirs to the northern throne by getting them to their aunt across the great sea before their wicked uncle kills them all. I have many ideas for this one, if it casts a spell on you let me know.

Maeve · July 16, 2019, 11:57:54 PM

70. At Best Shadowy and Vague

He hadn't meant to fucking kill her. He was just trying to impress the boss. Scare some stupid blonde bimbo that had thought she could fucking steal from them. Then the dumb slut zigged when she should have zagged or maybe his vision from starting to blur from all the pot and pcp Tomboi had given him and that machete was buried so deep in her neck it took three of them to get it out.

What the fuck were they supposed to do with the body? Tomboi wanted to put her through the wood chipper. Zipnuts was yelling about how they needed to call the boss to tell him that he wasn't getting his two grand. Spraken kept trying to fuck her.

He knew what to do. What was the point of having a goth sister into all that Satanic shit if she couldn't do him a solid? Raising the dead should be like the first they teach you after how to sacrifice goats. Turns out it was third, right after they showed you how to decode all those backwards lyrics in rock albums. Whatever, now he didn't need to worry about a dead girl who wouldn't be able to tell him where the missing goods were. Now he had to worry about an undead girl on a mission from hell to send the devil as many sinners as she could before all hallows eve or else end up the Devil's bride.

Maeve · July 28, 2019, 12:04:21 PM

71. Only Fools Understand Fate

Her sister is a sweet if flighty creature that she would give no more thought to than any other female relation that might be put to good political use. A useful pretty pawn in a marriage perhaps, or the pure virtuous reason for a war that otherwise would have been a muddy melange over trade, or in her current role a mother substitute to her nieces and nephews. The Queen may love her children but she has far more pressing matters than ensuring they've completed their history lesson for the day or were properly entertained. If she had been content with such things she would have stayed married to the Earl their parents matched her with, rather her present Kingly husband. A wise move in a career of such decisions. Like bringing her sister to court, an otherwise remarkable girl except for prophecy given at her birth: that any man who married her would become emperor. Stuff and nonsense for sure, the insane babbling of old women inhaling strange vapors. Yet, the power of prophecy laid in those who believe them and her sister's marriage was too important to left up to their foolish parents who only married her to an Earl.

The King was eager to take over their fathers role and claim the right to arrange her match. The infinite possibilities for alliances to be made, men to be risen up and the power it would grant him to have such a treasure men would kill for in his court. Until he saw her, until he spent one too many pleasant afternoons playing in the garden with her and his children and until he could no longer contain himself and took her in his arms. Their romance a poorly kept secret about court.

If the Queen was displeased it became a moot point by the time the barbarians broke down the gates. Certainly was farthest from everyone's minds when the their lead raider declares himself King and locks up their deceased monarchs family. Including a young girl with a heavy prophecy about her neck and a scheming former Queen willing to leverage everything she has to regain her previous glory.

Maeve · August 03, 2019, 08:06:07 PM

72. What the Cat Dragged In

Basic concept - a down on his luck guy finds the keys to a high end escorts apartment, he enters with the intention of robbing her but instead finds himself eating her pate, sipping her champagne and eventually passing out in plush bed. In he morning he awakes in a panic, thinking she'll call the cops as soon as she discovers him, instead he finds her setting out two cups and pot of coffee.

This story could go a couple of ways - could be a charming romantic comedy like Irma La Douce, something more Noir with spies and international affairs, or even something farcical like Trading Places. Thoughts? PM me.

Maeve · August 10, 2019, 10:15:13 AM

73. Neither Wise nor Brave Men

Darla had been on the run for ten long years. Ever since the night of her sweet sixteen when she'd rushed barefoot into a cab, her dress on backwards and lipstick smudged. She'd run with no particular place in mind, letting instinct take her places her former self never would have conceived of. It's how she kept them off her tail for years. She hopes that in that time the delicate truce that was contingent on marrying her fathers rival has been crushed to dust. Even though it would spark a gang war that wouldn't resolve itself for decades and the city would run red with blood. If they really wanted peace, maybe they should have asked her first.

They still don't ask her when they bundled her into a black car, her finance greeting her with a sneer and a glass of champagne. For the first time in ten years she does something the old her would have done. She visits family in the old country. Her mother's side never agreed with her fathers machinations, why wouldn't it be safe to attend her Grandfathers funeral?

At this point, I think I'm just going to have to admit that arranged marriages are just one of my ons.

Maeve · September 15, 2019, 01:05:10 PM

74. You Win Your Peace or Buy It

It's a rough, winding road that leads him to his present company. He's more than half convinced they're mad, but they know the dangers of this strange terrain and queer beliefs of it's inhabitants. It makes them an invaluable nuisance as he makes his way to his new holdings. As the younger but more smarter and better looking brother, he's been banished so his fraternal dud may flourish. There's a castle that belonged to the family through some distant relation of his mother where it will safe to store him. Some falling down relic where he may be decay or go mad from the boredom.

It's only when he's off the ship, his baggage to follow, that the locals tell him it's cursed. Massive beasts roam the forest and killing livestock and any man foolish enough to be out after dark. No serfs will farm the land near the castle which means there's no coin for any lord that rules there. The threat of a life of poverty is the only reason he takes up with two very shady looking characters at the local tavern. Men who claim to know how to deal with such beasts. They'll receive a quarter of his new lands profits for ten years if they're successful.

At that same tavern he finds that his new home is now without it's charms. Her charms to be sure. The redheaded dancing girl who winks and beckons him up to her bedroom. It's not until she has him pinned beneath her, her eyes golden and jaw extended that he believes that it's more than just wolves in the forest.

3mX1F Werewolf Story - Think Hammer going full on blue.

Maeve · October 01, 2019, 08:45:39 PM

75. Thief is Not the One who Steals, but the One that is Caught

“Thought the crushers might have gotten ya,” Sue laughed as she pulled her cousin into the alley where she had been hiding. In truth she was more worried about the gentleman Bette had been dancing with. She hadn’t recognized him when she was serving him and his men drinks, but she knew the name the Ebony Blade well enough, and it’s fearsome captain’s reputation.

“Nah,” Bette replied with equal glee, holding onto the lemon cakes that were resting comfortably in her upper skirts, “It’s all bone and bene.”

“You so sure? You half inch that Jemmey?”

Bette couldn’t stop the smirk that spread over her face as she held up the watch to Sue.

“He weren’t no Jemmey, just a toff. Just got a bit more flash is all,” Bette studied the watch then, opening it up to reveal the picture of a beautiful woman, “I’ll christen it up nice and proper and put it in lavender.”

Sue rolled her eyes. Her cousin may have been smart and cunning, but really should stick to cards. There she knew when to leave the table. She never thought of the consequences when it came to her more personal thefts.

“Don’t be a glock,” Sue told her, starting to lead her through the winding streets of their Habble. Best to get home and get away from the open wounds at the Blessing.

“That was Captain Drake of the Ebony Blade. He’ll be looking for that and wanting to make an example of what happens to persons who steal from him.”
Instead of being rattled like she should have been, perhaps turn a touch fearful and quicken her step, the smile just got bigger on Bette’s face.

“Don’t I just take the biscuit then?”

All thoughts of selling the watch flew from her mind and she decided that to keep the trinket as a good luck charm. With that happy thought in mind she linked arms with Sue and they laughed as they scampered home.

The house was quiet and dark when they managed to sneak their way in. Not a great surprise, the children would be in bed and it would be a few hours before the rest of those smuggling or thieving would be home. The girls took the opportunity to raid the kitchen while their grandmother was not there to scold them. They were even so bold as to steal the cherry brandy and good cheese. This was night to celebrate after all.

Sue and Bette crept up the stairs and as quietly as they could opened the door to the room they shared with three of the younger girls. It wasn’t that the Liddle’s home was small, on the contrary they were an institution amongst the thieves on the docks and their abode a sprawling twisting palace, it was just that there were so many of them.

They should have known that Mary, Polly and Judith wouldn’t have been sleeping and that their silent procession would be broken by the welcoming squeals of their sisters and cousins.

“Hush now,” Sue snapped, which while it did lower the volume did nothing to dampen the high spirits. Bette gave the lemon cakes and other goodies to Mary, the eldest of the brood, so she could set the bed for a midnight feast.

The younger girls wanted to hear all about their evening. It gave them ample fodder to imagine what they would do when they were of age to go hoisting, flimping, vamping or rolling. What music was playing? Who did they steal from? What were the current fashions for the whore’s at the Blessing?

They peppered the two older girls with these questions and more as they went about getting them ready for bed. Sue and Bette had once done the same for their cousins, Anna and Ruth, pestering them with tales of their exploits while they combed their hair a hundred times with perfumed powder before the girls went off to get married. Bette used to resent it, having to wait for her cousins to get back just so she could act as serving maid when she should be out there earning. Now, as Judith took out the pins in her hair and began to brush it clean she realized she was going to miss this ritual. It was nice to have someone happy to see you at the end of the day.

Three cases of the best brandy and six bolts of ethersilk stolen from never you mind, as her youngest uncle put it. Too dangerous to sell on Spire but enough of a generous haul to go the extra mile. Bette had volunteered, eager for adventure, and had persuaded her father and mother that fewer would suspect a woman for a smuggler and since it a good slice of the profits would be her dowry it was only right that she was the one to fence it. In truth it wasn’t her dowry she was concerned about. Anna had told her straight out she had two choices. Marry an older gentleman, fat with a lifetime of earning who wants something pretty to see him out the rest of his days and end up a young pretty widow or marry a young rapscallion to add to the family’s ranks. Anna had done the former and now her husband, a successful fish merchant, was about to leave her a very pretty widow. Bette’s mother on the other hand had done the latter and there was never a more loving and supportive couple. In truth Bette didn’t much care either way, she was worried about Sue.

Sue was in love with the baker’s son. She wanted to marry into a respectable family and the only way those sorts of people would allow one of their sort into their make shift parlor would be with bags of money. Bette would be damn sure she got a good price for that silk.

“Bette robbed a pirate king tonight,” Sue told Polly. This sent the younger girl into a tizzy and started another slew of queries. Including a demand for a full physical description.

“He was the handsomest of devils. Full square rigged, a right swell,” Bette told her. Judith had finished her hair, tied off her long braid with a simple blue ribbon, and then set about helping Bette out of her corset and into her nightgown. The young girl reverently stroked her fingers over the cheap brocade as if it were the finest of silks, so eager for her own chance to join her family’s ranks.

“And will hang you from the rigging should he ever see you again,” Sue scolded. Bette rolled her eyes as she gathered up their ill-gotten loot. She laid it all on the bed, now nicely set up with small mismatched glasses of brandy, cheese, sausage, dried fruit and of course lemon cake. Their take for that night was a mix of coin, jewelry, a few other bits and bob and the watch. 50% was the houses cut and that was non-negotiable, however what made up that cut was on an honor system.

“Be a lot of effort for a watch, a trinket that he probably nailed off a captain” Bette responded, balancing the bauble between her fingers. It was a pretty thing, high end for sure, probably belonged to a Jemmey, one of those in a higher Habble that the likes of Bette would never meet. He would miss it to be sure, but it wasn’t worth the effort hunting her down to get it back. Wasn’t like she had she had let the Blessing know that she had robbed Captain Drake of the Ebony Blade and he needed to slit her throat to get back his honor. Sue snatched the bauble from her hand.

“Oi!”

“She’s pretty,” Sue said, now holding the open watch in her hand, “Forever and always. Who you reckon she is? Promising him forever and always?”

“Gah, ain’t you bricky my chuckaboo?” Bette snarked, becoming rather bored with her cousins warnings, “He probably nicked it himself from some merchant before he threw the unfortunate soul into the mists. It’s just honest is thieving.”

“You best hope,” Sue said, with all the finality of nail going into a coffin. There was an eerie silence that descended upon the room. Like the girls expected Captain Drake to burst through the door right then, sword out and thirsting for revenge.

They all shrieked when there was a scratch at the window.

Captain Mac hissed in surprise, his back arched and all his fur sticking on end at the onslaught of such a terrible sound.

“You’re not going to let that blooming thing in tonight are ya?” Sue asked, grasping onto the front of her night gown as if she was attempting to keep her heart in her chest.

“Course, Captain Mac is my fella,” Bette replied, trying to keep her heart in the same position. She opened the slanted window and let the cat jump through. He was a large creature with black and white fur, a notable black spot over his eye. He had started hanging about the place a few years back, and rather than shoo him off the Liddle family had employed him as an exterminator and crow. It hadn’t taken long before Bette and he had become thick as thieves. He even had taken on the monumental task of teaching her cat, no small feat given how thick most humans are. Bette had asked once, and only once, how Mac had come to be without a tribe and what his true name was. ‘What would humans understand of such things?’ he had sneered and then disappeared for three weeks. Once he had returned they spoke no more of Mac’s past.

“C’mon then, lets’ eat,” Sue sighed in resignation and the girls descended like vultures on the spread before them.

It had taken hours to get the girls settled to bed, due in part to the younger feeling the need to tell pirate stories into the night and what they did to young things that fell into their clutches.

Bette gathered she only had a two hours or so of sleep before would need to get herself ready for her voyage. So in the treasured moments of silence, the four other girls mercifully resting and Captain Mac curled into her side, her thoughts turned not to the dreadful punishments of pirates but to a man who stroked her face and who despite be able to have any easy conquest he desired, desired her.

This was one of the first stories I did here at E. Lately I've found myself hankering to reboot her character. I'm thinking less Steampunk and more Victorian horror. Obviously names would be changed to respect my former writing partner.

Maeve · October 07, 2019, 08:44:56 PM

The Shewolf From The Village

"We know what they think," Liam huffed, his face half shrouded by ciggarette smoke and a dapper bowler hat. "They think they're city toffs who can come in and take over cause we're country bumpkins."

"We should still hear them out," Seth countered as he used his knife to dig the dirt out from under his nails, "Might be the connection we've been looking for. Move us on up, yeah?"

"What you think Boss?" Ruben asked, knowing all of this was academic. They would follow whatever the boss said.

"Letum come," Mary degreed, tipping up her hat with a long claw on her otherwise human hand, "Just make sure it's that time of the month. Wouldn't be fair if they didn't know who they were dealing with."

Maeve · December 15, 2019, 08:55:15 PM

76. Tend Your Wounds

Version I

"Oh I'm cousin now am I?" Lyra spit at them. Of course she was cousin now. Their precious boy king has fallen, the promised golden empire crumbled just as it was trying to stand. Not that it was all bad. Women of her talents, discretion being principle among them, were always in demand and rose like cream to the top no matter what sour sludge they may be floating on. Even if they couldn't come through the front door.

For their part the sorry, shivering mass of former favorites at least at the sense not to press the issue. Instead they pushed forward a very unhappy, but familiar face. So like her mother.

"We merely ask you consider our plea, and as a gesture of good will," they once again gestured to the girl, "You may do with her as you like."

Version II

It took every ounce of her skill not to let the sudden lava flow of rage to drip down her pleasant and more importantly placid facade. When the man who now proclaimed himself a duke, a title he had earned by being the most vicious, beastly troll among a horde of such creatures, had invited her to what had been one of the finest houses in town she had assumed it was because she had won herself a comfy spot in the new regime. What did she care if he was a horrid oaf if he intended to make her a Duchess? It had always been her thought that silk purses could be made from rougher things than sows ears.

Even when he proceeds to drone about her 'experience' and 'years of knowledge', her ire is not roused. What does it matter if he thinks her old if it means that these qualities get her a title. No, what makes her want to spit like a snake is that it's her experience in training wayward concubines is what makes her valuable to him. It's worse when he brings out the daughter, the young, beautiful, daughter of her rival and gives her 3 months to turn her into a doting slut or it's her head on a pike that makes her bubble and froth like an overheated cauldron.

This can go pure dark FXF smut or can have a plot - players choice.

Maeve · January 12, 2020, 05:10:20 PM

77. Reason before Violence

On it's surface the choice was simple enough, as desperation meant that it was no choice at all. It was only the act of putting quill to parchment that made it seem that way. Her mistress would be sent to a nunnery and a cold, neglected death if she didn't act, but if did and her plot succeeded she could be dooming her princess to a cruel marriage and her people to a tyrant and if she failed a sentence of treason.

It never crossed her mind to share her thoughts with the woman whose name she signed at the bottom of the letter. The only stiffness of spine that her Princess possessed was due to whale bone. She could not get the royal seal but hoped that the letter would be believed by the Bloodtongue and his vast army to the north. How could he turn down a marriage proposal from the most beautiful princess in the 7 realms?

Maeve · January 26, 2020, 07:32:46 PM

78. A Hungry Man is Not a Free One

The baby - her baby - was going to starve to death if she didn't do something and she would end up just another rotting ghost, notch on her cheek to mark her as plagued, while she fruitlessly dreamed of her man returning with arms full of gold. Or she could take him up on his offer. His lewd proposition of wishing to see her naked and willing to pay for the pleasure, when she first arrived in this ice covered hell with the sun of Prairies kissing her cheeks, was an ever more enticing offer. She had to do something, her young husband was likely dead down some mine shaft and washing dishes for 10c a week wasn't keeping them fed. He told her he would only wait so long, he had to return to his mother country and was willing to take her home with him but he wouldn't wait forever. He would give her six months to think it over, to grieve the loss of her husband and grow accustomed to his presence and then she would have to chose.

I wouldn't mind telling this story in flashbacks. Have it open up with her husband surviving and thinking she and the baby had perished only to find her in England or France or India or New York as another mans wife, pretending that she doesn't know him.

Maeve · March 16, 2020, 07:46:20 PM

79. If You Desire Healing, Let Yourself Fall Ill

You know this place. Well maybe not this place but one like it. The threatened future if things get that bad. The isle where the worst of humanity is left to tear itself to shreds and yet like weeds somehow manage to piece together enough scraps to create something like a society. This is the no man zone your parents and parole office warned you about. This isn't locking you up and throwing away the key - this is the end of the line.

I'm blaming the news and an interesting video discussing Escape from New York which I can't find for the life of me, otherwise I would share it here, for this collection of stories. This can either be a 1X1 where we play different characters or a group game where I'm cool with being the GM (especially if I get sent home to work). Take your pick and let me know.

1. The feeds are illegal, but that doesn't stop anyone from watching them. Some arch-hackers found a way to turn their exile into the latest viral sensation, spewing out their hatred and vitriol to anyone left to listen, creating makeshift documentaries for the curious and exploitation scenes for the pervs. Everyone from kids looking for some cheap danger to intellectuals needing anecdotes about the depths to which human beings can fall watch their live streams. It's how the government knows that while everyone off the isle is falling sick the ones inside are fine and dandy...all things considering. Even when exposed the prisons remain unaffected. Things are getting desperate and the measure they choose is to send in their best team to hunt down their secret to health.

2. She's not innocent. Never pretended to be. She was a fucked up kid who did fucked up things. She was also a smart kid. Became a doctor at 20 and spent the next 5 years creating as many designer drugs as she could think of. Sold them too. Became a bohemian legend the club kids whispered about, the kind of story that read like a high and ended like a trip. She fell fast and she landed here, looking after the old man. She kept him alive and he kept her off her back. But now, even with all her skill and all his luck, he's dying. Power vacuums are blood in the water, that's true in civilized society and it's true here. He doesn't want his death to come at the end of a blade and he can't just hands the reigns of power to her. What he can do is stage a contest. A challenge to every gang leaded, minor warlord and wanna be despot. To the victor go the Big Dog spoils.

3. He doesn't appreciate being dragged out of retirement, even less so bring reminded that he owes the Old Man a debt. Worst thing about it though. He's being forced to be an errand boy. To fetch some dame. They keep telling him that she's his doctor, but the old man has always had a sweet tooth but rotten teeth to chew them with. If he was a betting man he'd say she wasn't kidnapped but ran off with Scorpio as soon as he cast his eyes in her direction. Didn't matter either way. His debt would be paid once he managed to traverse the entire length of the island, through the patchwork of territories who are none to hospitable, and snatch away the Warlords prize. Easy, peasy.

Maeve · April 12, 2020, 03:13:58 PM

80. A Toil and a Snare - TAKEN

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

"It's a shame about the Prince," the cook sighed as she tossed an apple ring, curled like a snake skin, off her knife, "There never was a kinder master."

In a darkened alcove the Prince felt as though the cook had run him through. It was one thing to deal with this matter in private but to be pitied by the people he was meant to protect was almost too much to bear. Behind he could hear the old woman, the so called Queen of the Witches, as she screeched like an owl at his father, "My moon and my night sky, what have you done with them?", followed by the sharp clanking of chains.

The groom grunted in response as he kicked the cage holding his prisoners, "Kill enough witches and one of them is bound to curse you. Lucky it was just the Prince struck down by madness and not the whole Kingdom if you ask me."

The cook sneered and the Prince watched in fascination as a white hand crept out between the wooden slates to snap up the discarded apple peel. He couldn't resist disclosing himself when the groom when to stamp down his heavy boot on the delicate appendage. There was surprised and frightened stuttering from the help that on any other occasion he would have eased with a kind wave of his hand, but now all his attention was on the two faces that looked up at him.

She was beautiful but he was ethereal, proof of their whispered fey ancestor, and he could only hope that one of them would break the curse.

A good and brave Prince has been cursed with madness by a witch for the sins of his father. In an attempt to break it the King kidnaps the son and daughter of the Witch Queen after learning that only the love of a witch child will lift his sons madness. They are promised that the one who falls for his majesty will live a long life in the palace and the other will be released with their mother, but the siblings know not to trust the man who has killed more of their kind than he has built churches to his own god and hatch a plan of their own.

Maeve · April 18, 2020, 10:08:37 PM

81. Untitled 1920's Survival Horror

I have a supernatural roaring twenties craving. I'm thinking a speakeasy in an art deco hotel designed for the glory of Satan where demon rum is literal and a bunch of gangsters and g-men have to fight off possessed flappers.

Maeve · May 02, 2020, 10:52:42 PM

82. For the Soul to Conceive One Wickedness

The thing is, he's a good guy. Really, he's a good guy. He's been a superhero since he developed his powers in his teenage years, fighting for good, right and and American way. He's a good guy and she's, well she's not. She's been on the side of the bad guys since he first met her. There was no downfall, no tragic back story, it was like she sprang fully formed from the earth a villain. Not one of the worst, but bad enough and a thorn in his side. If she had been truly vile she wouldn't have offered to help them and he wouldn't' have put her in a safe house for her trouble. The mission had felt like a success until the moment when she was going to walk out the door and he found he couldn't let her go.

Basically a superhero holds a villain captive, finding out he's not nearly the kind of good guy he's convinced himself he is. Could be he's a war with himself and hides the circumstances from his teammates. Could be he flaunts it as he doesn't see what he's doing as wrong. Could be he is actually protecting her and this action tilts his world on it's axis. Have a thought, pm me.

Maeve · May 09, 2020, 07:18:39 PM

83. What Our Skins Are Designed For

This one is a basic concept rather than a plot. Set in a distant future where cyborgs and androids are the new humanity a group of bounty hunters come into possession of a precious relic - a full human woman.

Lots of different ways this could go - they could be asked to transport a mysterious box for a rich client, that they only learn mid flight contains a human who does not want to reach their destination. Could be they are gifted the human in exchange for a job. Could be she's one of the last of her kind, as humans are being hunted to extinction, trying to escape to distant planet and stows away on their vessel. Have an idea? Upload it to me.

Maeve · May 31, 2020, 12:57:20 PM

84. Maintained by the Avoidance of Pain

He wanted her and now that he was the boss, the boy king to a empire sitting atop the bodies of his mother, father and uncle, he could have her. Why should he deny himself the one thing that would make him happy? Why should he concern himself with the considerations of law and autonomy when he had power to consolidate and revenge to rain down upon his enemies? What did it matter if his family didn't approve? They should be grateful that he spared them at all and continued to protect them from those that would do them harm. It was for the good of his men and what was left of his family that he had someone to center him, someone to ease his furious mind at the end of battle. He was sure that she would eventually go accustomed to the luxury the surrounded her, to the responsibilities being on his arm entailed. It was daunting and foreign but she was more than capable, she just needed to believe in herself rather than letting her insecurities talk her into running from him at every opportunity. He would like to be able to go to the movies without handcuffing her to her chair.

She's convinced this is some weird nightmare cum sex dream that she's going to wake up from any minute now. Her alarm will blare - a screeching fire alarm - and she would roll out of bed, blinding looking for a top and her jogging sneakers. After she ran herself awake she would brush her hair into something respectable and grab the train for the 30 minute ride to the nice part of town. He would be in the kitchen waiting for her, pushing down the plunger on the french press as she entered, his school books waiting on a table in the solarium surrounded by croissants and little pots of strawberry jam. She insisted on tutoring him out here now, given what happened the last time they were on a sofa together. Even now he would sit closer to her pour over a question, his knee knocking next to hers, fingers brushing over her hand sparking her awareness of his bright blue eyes drinking in the sight of her neck and lines of her face, wetting his lips as he tried to figure out a way to kiss her and not how to solve for x.

When she left it would be with sticky knickers and a sigh of relief, but not feeling completely safe until she boarded the train for home. There would be a text waiting for her with too many x's and o's for a note to a teacher. She would ignore it, now she knew better and drew a hard line between working and home hours. She would go for another jog and pretend not to see the suspicious figures in the crowd. There would be flowers on her doorstep and she would drop them off with the door man so he could decide which lucky lady would get them tonight. Rinse and repeat.

All she had to do was wake up.

Maeve · June 05, 2020, 06:26:07 PM

Characters from Wild West Game

These characters are from a group game that did not last nearly as long as it should have. I would love to do a 1X1 with them. For your consideration -

Sam Ainsworth - Piano Player

Name: Samuel Ainsworth
Nickname: Sam, Piano Man
Gender: Male
Age: Late 40s
Hair: Dirty blonde/grey
Eyes: Grey
Height: 5'11
Build: Lean, but can still pack a punch when needed.
Identifying/Remarkable Features: Couple of nasty scars, but only with his kit off. English accent.
Attire/Special Personal Items: A lovely leather and ivory shaving set that gives a nice close shave, especially if a punter get too close to the girls or the gold without a how do you do.
Special Mention: Sam always been a creative soul at heart. Had a song on his lips and his fingers itching for the ivories since he was a lad, but he wasn't born into a family that could afford lessons or give him time to pursue his musical talents. Instead he cut his teeth down by the docks, unloading the many ships that came from around the world. Sometimes those goods even got to where they needed to be. All the while he learned how to play when he wasn't sleeping of a drink and kept writing. It's unknown what the circumstances are that lead him to show up at Lola's door, Tallulah and her wardrobe during one of the worst blizzards the territory's ever seen. No ones sure what The Duchess and he are to each other but they argue like a married couple, but he dotes on her like a daughter and every time anyone asks the story changes. No matter who he really is, he plays a pretty tune and keeps his hands to himself.

Name:Tallulah deBois
Nickname:The Duchess
Gender :F
Age:24
Hair Color:Blonde
Eye Color :Brown
Height:5'7"
Build:Buxom
Identifying/Remarkable Features:piercing eyes and a nasty scar on her right hip
Attire/Special Personal Items:Quite the collection of fine frills, with a taste for ostrich plumes. When not working she wears a black choker with silver cherub. A pearl encrusted flask and a gilded copy of The Goblin Market.
Special Mention: The title of the Duchess is not meant to be kind. She keeps herself apart and her placid features, slight Parisian accent often come across as haughty and aloof. She rarely leaves Lola's, never tells the same story twice about her history but puts on one hell of a floor show.

Character: Tallulah DeBois
Location: Back Stage
Time of day: Night
Tagging:Open

Something funny, something risque and a lullaby. That was the strict set Sam had in place for her the nights she performed. The funny usually done in the earlier hours to give the punters good chuckle and ready for another drink. This evening she had donned a poor altered old suit of his, graced herself with a charcoal mustache and belted out ‘Second Hand Aristocrat’. At one point she even tripped over a cane. On purpose. When Sam had suggested it in rehearsal she had asked he didn’t just throw a pie in her face? He had threatened to do just that if she didn’t stay on her mark for the chorus.

This coat, I wear, belonged I declare
To Joe Chamberlain once on a time
The great Duke of Devonshire's pants I've got on
And Lord Raspberry's suit suits me prime
These gloves were worn by the Marquis of Lorne
And I'm wearing Lord Balfour's old hat
And I'm smoking a 'topper' of Rothchild's cigar
I'm a second-hand aristocrat.

She’d be singing that in her sleep for weeks, but it was better than what he had lined up for the risque number of the evening.

The risque was also more often than not humorous as well, often about naughty ladies stuffed full of double entendre, but it was later in the night when the drink had the crowd in an uproar. Tonight’s ditty was unbearably British. While Tallulah now found herself at the mercy of Columbia she kept some aspects of her home close to her heart. Her English was perfect but she kept enough of an accent and dropped enough monsieur, mon deur and mon amours to make sure these American savages knew she was worth her 75 cents. She also still despised anything that stank of that dreadful island Great Britain. Some days that excluded Sam, with his graying temples and ancient London slang. Tonight may not have been one of them, as the second song was about a English bigamist who seduced men while bathing and whose refrain warned young men that you ‘can’t judge the marmalade by the label on the jar’. She had told them early in their artistic partnership that she would quit if he ever made her sing about girls named Sally or bicycles. He had been true to his word, but delighted in finding new ways to affront her sense of taste. This evenings line up a prime example.

“She does that when I’m on stage, I’m plucking her bald,” She told Sam as she watched Babydoll maker her unsteady debut from behind the curtain.

“Easy now luv, I’m sure the miss is just clumsy,” Sam responded, his fingers flipping over the sheet music to make sure it was in the right order for the evening.

“That gag so old it’s got whiskers,” Tallulah, now dressed in her usual fare of sparkling gowns trimmed in ostrich feathers put the back of a pale white hand on her forehead and stumbled backward, straining against the confines of her gown so that her bosom resembled alpine peaks “Monsieur please, you overwhelm me, take my hand.”
Sam was still looking at the sheets and ignored her on her tottering heels. She loudly cleared her throat.

“I do see you,” he told her, “What I don’t see is your closing number.”

“Humph, I’ll tell Miss Lola I need a new piano player. You’re immune to my charms, what good are you?”

“I play in your key,” he told her, “Now dammit all to hell, where could that have gone? These things aren’t cheap you know.”

Did she ever. They waited for months for new music. Whatever his cousins down the East End sent to their family in New York, who put together care packages that rambled over the frontier to reach to their doors. At that point the music may have been out of fashion but it was new to the boys here and that was all that mattered. The point being that it was new and she wasn’t forced to perform the same number more that than twice. She wasn’t Miss Lola, she doubted she could bring the house down every night with a sweet rendition of ‘Clementine’.

“What does it matter? I know it by heart, you know it by heart. I do nothing but sing for you, day and night.”

“That’s not true now is it Miss. You also do private performances for those with more money than brains.” Tallulah smiled wolfishly and laid her large fan made up of black ostrich feathers in a gilded holder heavily against his chest, “They don’t play in my key.” He batted it away from his chest, “I should get there and you’ve got five minutes before you’re on stage. Don’t disappoint.”

Tallulah pulled back, straightened her dress and looked down her lashes, “I never do.”

Maeve · June 27, 2020, 06:05:19 PM

85. Salvation on the Other Side

Basic plot - a duke sneaks in his favorite hooker into the royal court by passing her off as his daughter. She catches the eye of the King and in order to make her a royal mistress in good standing he marries her off to one of his court favorites. An arrangement that frustrates her Duke lover, pleases the King and causes her to feel the injurious prick of unrequited love.

Maeve · August 29, 2020, 02:06:00 AM

86. But First a Phoenix Must Burn

"Do you know why I chose you?"

She could only shake her head in response, too caught up in the struggle to breath or find footing. The strong bindings that stretched her out to the ceiling prevented her from doing either easily. She was either forced to scrape her toes along the floor in a search for stability or hang by the the ropes until her shoulder gave out.

"It was those eyes of yours," he told her, leaning back with a glass of pilfered wine as he watched her, drinking her in from her big toe to the top of her head. "They're truly remarkable when you're frightened."

"All the girls were frightened," she whispered, aghast that something so simple could seal her fate, "Why wouldn't they be...with what your men...how could they not tremble at such brutality?"

"Ah, but you didn't tremble midear," he grinned, rolled her hardened nipple in his fingers before pulling sharply, " You quivered."

Her eyes went wide as she tried to stomp back a half strangled moan from her wanton belly. He only chuckled in response. "I may be a man of monsterous appetites but I'm not a monster. I've been looking for a girl like you for quite some time now."

Basic BDSM slave plot. I'm very open to setting on this one. Could be pirates. Could be Vikings. Could be Futuristic. Could be an alternative take on the I Drew the Curtains, I Close the Door Plot.

Maeve · January 02, 2021, 11:04:59 PM

87. It's the Living You Have to Watch Out For

I have a craving for these two as chaotic twins (he's naturally psychic and she whips up the fun gadgets) who might have bitten off more than they can chew when it comes to making a buck off the supernatural.

Maeve · March 14, 2021, 06:19:02 PM

88. Looking for a Ruffian

Collection of plot sparks where the male character would likely be rougher around the edges. Just a little.

The New Dealer

He wasn't the usual one. The guy she normally bought her stuff from was like her. Clean cut, a little nerdy, desperately out of place at the bar that always stamped her hand.

"Listen, you want it or not?" He asks, tipping back a beer.

"Sure," she murmurs, pulling out the usual amount.

"What the fuck you think that's going to buy you? I don't sell singles kid."

Basic plot - Good girl who needs the occasional pick me up goes to her usual place only to find her usual dealer is not the guy who answered her call. Can go from there.

Gun Call a Kidnappin

"Wait, you're the other one?"

The shock of watching that grin spread across her angelic face turned his blood cold. His big brother, half brother, was going to kill him.

"Has it always been?" She nodded, pulling her long blonde hair out of pigtails. "Why?"

"Cause that assholes been after my twin since Sophomore year. I'm here to put an end to it, and you're going to help me."

Basic Plot - Hot shot former king of high school has had an obsessive crush on the nice twin for years, despite the objections of her family. He refuses to let her leave for college without giving him a chance. He enlists his unwilling brother, who's in her grade, into flirting with her - mostly over text, and inviting her up to their cabin by the lake for 4th of July weekend. What he doesn't know until it's too late is that it's the bad twin he's been texting and climbed onto the back of his bike for a weekend away.

Guarding the Sister

This be over a hell of a lot quicker if she out of the picture. Not permanently. Wasn't like he was trying to start a gang war, he just wanted these negation's to be over with and end in his favor.

Basic plot: An up and coming gang is causing trouble for the big wigs of the underworld. Their plans to strike a deal are continually thwarted by the gang leaders sister. Tired of not having the upper hand the rival leader as her kidnapped and entertained until they can wrap up their meetings.

Marriage

Too late she realizes that this is punishment. Punishment for betraying her family, even if it saved the city a gang war. Punishment for giving them the upper hand, even if they are now the undisputed rulers of the city. Punishment for daring to ask for compensation so her betrayal. If she was going to lose her family, she wanted to be ushered into a new one. When they agreed to a marriage, she assumed it would be to one of their many sons, not to...him.

Basic story - The daughter of a high level crime family sells them out to the rivals thinking that it's her only escape. In exchange she wishes to be married into the upper echelons of the rival family, instead she finds herself forced to say I do to a either a the top hit man or a lower level thug.

Entrusted

This is his first big job. All he has to do is make sure the bitch with the briefcase handcuffed to her wrist, like this is a fucking Bond film, makes it across town. Easy, peasy, bing, bang, boom. He gets a pat on the head and makes it to the Lusty Leopard for happy hour. Hey, where's she headed?

Basic plot - He just wants to get her where she's going, she's trying to give him the slip for a bigger payoff.

Renfield

Being on the run from Hunters is never easy. Especially in a time when they can practically track a vampire by app. What she needs is someone who can arrange things for her during the day, someone to bring her food when she needs it, someone to throw them off the scent...what she needs is a Renfield.

Basic story - Vampire on the run grabs the first healthy looking human male to be her thrall.

Break Free

This is supposed to be what little girls like her dream of. A rich daddy to look after their every whim and all she has to do is be pretty. Who knew that dream would so boring, now she's asking the Sandman for something else.

Basic story - bored moll decides to start an affair with one of the lower level thugs that works for her sugar daddy.

A Big Dog

"Whatcha got there?" He asked, voice too loud for the time of night. She looked up from the roughly dug hole, 6X6, and dropped the bloody burial shroud.
"A dog," she told him, eyes wide as a deer, "A really big dog."

Basic story, a nice young girl ends up having to bury a body -either she's covering for someone or killed a bully in self defense - and YC blackmails her with that knowledge. Probably could be combined with The New Dealer.

Maeve · April 06, 2021, 08:10:37 PM

89. Pulling on the Push Door to the Same Star

There's a reason that Cinderella is not a story about soulmates. Except it is, it totally is. Why else would a Prince in his right mind marry her after he found out that she was a servant? If they weren't soulmates and some little blot of burning text didn't appear on his body like a sign around his neck saying 'this is what the universe thinks I deserve', why didn't he sneak out of the house when they weren't looking and find some convenient duchess?

But it can't be, otherwise it's not romantic.

The universe thinks she deserves a criminal. Her Prince Charming's binding words are 'Do as I say and no one gets hurt' that flash red across her forearm. Worst case of the Mondays she's ever had.

Until today.

Locked in the underground fortress of her soulmates former partner, in a cell that she's certain doubles as a gas chamber, with a next set of words in brilliant violet blue down her leg, "You'll never know him like I do."

As a side note I am usually very flexible about face claims but for this role I am sticking with Melissa. Her facial expressions are perfection.

Maeve · May 02, 2021, 06:19:36 PM

90. What the World Calls Romance

"Why not just tell her?"

The old man laughed, "Because I want her to concentrate on her studies. They will be," he paused for effect as he poured his three sons each a drink," strenuous." He looked to his three boys and couldn't help but burst with pride at the sight of each of them. Either of them would be a fine heir and he was going to be sure that at least one of them had the perfect wife. Not that he would ever tell them that. "And if you all prove yourselves to be utterly worthless, I'll keep her and try for another."

Grace knew as soon as her father died her life would never be the same. He had been close with his employer and his bosses final kindness had been to promise to marry the young woman when he was gone, to make sure that she never wanted for anything again. Now as she stood in the cool basement, looking over the chains that hung from the ceiling and the implements on the wall, she wondered if that price would be too high.

Grace thinks that once her father dies she will be married off to the mans employer who has a very strict definition of what constitutes a perfect wife. Little does she know as she attempts to survive her training that it's the man's sons who are vying for her hand and the title to their fathers company.

Maeve · May 14, 2021, 02:00:36 PM

91. Sweet Profit

It's just another step to fitting in with the crew, getting a moll. Aiden's a good earner, a better brawler and the boss wants to make sure they get their fair share of the spoils. One time it was a Corvette, another time a personal appointment with the mans own tailor and this time, it's the best girl of a Madame who faulted on her debt. As much as Aiden wanted to turn the present down, no one says no to the boss. The boss is old fashioned, Aiden just hopes that the girl is experienced enough to know to keep her mouth shut.

Maeve · May 24, 2021, 08:26:37 PM

92. Bargaining Position - TAKEN

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

It started off slow. As a joke.

He's practically a recluse. Used to be some hot shot something in the city but about 5 years ago he moved into the old Van Hoebeek mansion on the hill. No one is sure why he chose their sleepy coastal village but it certainly wasn't to make friends.

She got the job through a friend. If ex boyfriends drug dealer counts as a friend. Tips at the bar dry up to nothing once the tourists leave and the fish don't bite. This would be steady. Not glamourous but enough to pay rent and it wasn't like you needed a degree to clean houses.

The first time it happens he asks her to make him tea. She huffs and says that she's just there to scrub his toilet and make his bed, anything else would extra. He pulled out a $20 and she didn't hesitate slipping it into her bra. Next time he wants her to do his laundry. Time after that it's to draw him a bath. It takes a whole collection of pointless tasks punctuated by crisp dollar bills before he asks her to kiss him. 'What kind of girl you take me for?' She scolds, half a grin on her face as she's been waiting weeks for him to ask. 'I know what kind of girl you are. Now we're just haggling.'

$50 for a make out session, $200 for sex, $250 if he wants to cuddle after. She even got a grand out of him once to spend the holidays, enough to get her brakes fixed. Felt weird but so did walking.

"C'mon, let's talk about this," he grouses, trying to stop her from gathering up her things long enough to have a conversation. Little things that she had forgotten on her trips up to clean and the toothbrush she left for the nights she stayed over. Like hell she was going to stay long enough to talk. Bastard had said he loved her. It wasn't the first time, but it was the first time she had clothes on.

"You can't go out in this. They're calling it the storm of the century. It's practically suicide."

She glances out the window to the see snow coming down hard. The thick, wet variety, like mother nature had hocked a spit ball at their little town. No way her bald tires are making it back to her apartment tonight.

"Gimme your keys, I'm taking your car."

"I'm not doing that," he chides, but holds up his money clip to placate her, "Stay, at least until the storm passes. I'll double your rate."

Dark romance? Quirky, small town hiding a supernatural secret? Thriller? Players choice.

Maeve · June 27, 2021, 01:17:22 PM

93. Rarely Pure and Never Simple - CRAVING

"So that's what you like: Snares," Theresa snickered, as Dinah turned her head away from the display of pretty boys.

"This is dumb. I need to go finish my paper."

"What you need," Rafa countered, "is a Lightline. My flea, straight truth, we deal in darkness. There's no shame in what keeps you on the path."

Dinah felt her cheeks go fluorescent pink, as she eyed the gaggle of bouncing blonde pigtails and bountiful brunette curls. "They're all trained to like guys."

Theresa snorted, "They're all trained to like it up the ass." She then rolled her eyes as Rafa shot her a rebuking look, "I'll go find the manager and see what he suggests."

Rafa sighed and took Dinahs hand, "I know this isn't how they do it where you're from. Would you rather a kitten? They're trained for women too."

Dinah suddenly found her shoes incredible interesting, "Nah. I like," She inhaled deeply, "I like everything about girls except the girl parts."

Theresa waved them over and then ushered them behind a red curtain. She sat in a plush chair to the side, gesturing that the others should take their seats before the small stage bathed in blue light.

"This is my favorite part," she whispered to Dinah, passing her a glass of champagne.

So - I've been ingesting media about HP Lovecraft, Dark Academia and Femboy Hooters and it created...this?

Students at an elite school learn the nature of the dark arts. Not to practice but to understand them. Through this they're trained to keep to keep the darkness at bay. In order to make sure they only lose 1 or 2 students a year to madness the school created the Lightline system. Happy harlots (think bimbo/himbo) that make their assigned students lives easier.

Does this Lightline have a agenda of their own? Will transfer student Dinah learn the truth of the institution is even more sinister than it appears or give into the corruption? Is there something hiding in the shadows determined to swallow them all whole?

Maeve · September 06, 2021, 04:22:10 PM

94. Fate Inflicted

Note: This story could get a bit dark, bordering on misery porn, and trigger happy. Which, if you've gotten this far in the thread, is saying something. Normally I don't have explicit racism in my stories, not that is isn't present as a theme or avoided but it's not a kink of mine so it's rare to be a focal point between the main characters, but it feels inauthentic not to have it here as I pictured it. I also usually lean towards happy endings, or as happy as possible, however I'm not sure that's in the cards for this soulmates gone wrong.

Ricky wouldn't do this to her. He wouldn't lock her in the VIP room with the man who murdered her parents. She tried the door again, desperately jiggling the lock.

"You ruined my marriage you know," he told her, sitting calm as a cucumber under the pink neon lights. "Hard to explain to your blushing bride why your words show up after you've tied the knot. She didn't want to wait around for some little senorita to cha cha her husband away." He took a swig of beer, his gaze hard as granite. "What's your name?"

She stopped pounding at the door. No one was coming to help her. "Salome."

"Huh, drop the rest of your veils and lets get to know each other," He smirked as he leaned back and spread his legs, resting like a conquering barbarian king. "C'mere, I'm not going to hurt you."

Salome swallowed before turning to face her doom. She now understood the soulmarks that stained the back of her calves and could only hope that by the time she met 'Baby girl, what has he done to you', there would be something of her left.

Maeve · September 12, 2021, 09:31:47 PM

95. Between What is Right and What is Best

In a post apocalyptical wasteland a Prince comes looking for a bride. Not only is he handsome and witty but his Kingdom is an oasis. He's on a tour to meet with the few remaining outposts of humanity but finds their women lacking. That is until he finds himself a captive of the Amazons. Looking for a bride is now the least of his concerns.

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Werewolves, Vampires and Crooks (F looking for takers)