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Author Topic: ♥ Discernible Distractions ♥ {Arrogant F seeks literate M}  (Read 924 times)

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Offline FlickahaTopic starter

  • ツ Deviously Delectable ❤
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  • Join Date: Jun 2012
  • Location: Wales! (No that's not 'in England')
  • Gender: Female
  • Ainsi sera, groigne qui groigne.
  • My Role Play Preferences
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Hello [you], I'm Flickaha (you can call me Flick). Nice to meet you. Firstly there should be an abundance of posts of mine that you can check to judge whether you think we'd work well together. I think this form of 'stalking' is valid and important whilst vetting partners so please, go right ahead.

Currently; Hesitantly Available

What I Want

I'm looking for a high standard only; this doesn’t mean I’m impossible to please or that I think my writing is shit hot. I make mistakes, I rush things, I can be a nightmare – but I know what I like and I know what I don’t. I like complex stories, feelings, emotions and realism in my games. I also like well-constructed and intuitive posts. Length doesn’t matter, if you’re working on a minimum paragraph count just because you’ve agreed it in advance…that’s not writing, that’s homework and I don’t believe it has any correlation to how good you are as a writer. Also it makes things less fun if you're trying to hit a target. What I’m looking for is somebody that can include a mass of things in their posts; description, feelings, internalisation, dialogue, character growth, development and plot movement. Simples.

Most importantly I want somebody I can get lost with, isn’t that what literature is about?

Naughty Bits

I’m completely flexible with all adult themes; violence/abuse/sex/horror - trust me you'll shock yourselves before you shock me. And yes this a challenge many have taken up, but as of yet nobody has proven me wrong. For specifics take a look here O/O's.

Me
I have been writing and role-playing for a very long time, in that time I have grown a lot and my tastes and demands have changed with me. Currently I am unable to invest in anything that doesn't push my skills forward, if I'm not being challenged or engaged then I won't be interested. So if you're the type to avoiding investing in characters and plots then I'm afraid we'll probably end up at loggerheads.

I can play both male and female characters convincingly enough and enjoy playing both. In fact I have a whole host of both (cue shameless website plug) on my website, the link for which can be found in my profile. I tend to prefer to go off plots rather than characters though and the ones listed are just ones I adored from previous role-plays.

I’m not really into apocalyptic or extreme Sci-Fi, so there isn’t much point in asking about them sorry, but anything else feel free to give a go.

I do like the following; horror, satire, romance, crime, adventure, superheroes, forbidden romance, twisted fairytales. I like taking simple plots and twisting them. I’m also such a comic book nerd at heart that I doubt I’d turn down many requests for anything involving lycra. 

As for my posting speed, it can vary a lot. There are a few people that get replies rapidly and consistently but please do not hold me by that standard for all of them. Slow responses are more my forte and speed in no way denotes interest.

Collaboration

As far as I am concerned onexone role-play is a collaborative effort to write a story. Protagonists are chosen but without a certain amount of give and take on each part not much will happen. I will forgo control of my characters occasionally for the sake of plot development and flow. I would rather have something amazing to read and lax control a little than read something wooden and one-sided just because my character was stagnant. That also means on the flip-side I expect to do the same with yours. If we’re writing together there has to be a certain amount of trust with each other’s creativity and characters; it’s an easy rhythm to get into when you get to know each other’s styles.

I’m not interested in reading posts that just react to my post and don’t develop beyond that, it's a pet hate of mine. I've gotten into too many role-plays where I'm left driving the plot on my own-some, it's who I am, I tend to like keeping things moving and will plan my replies accordingly. However if I am the only one doing this for long periods I start to wonder why I am not just writing the story alone.

Preferences

I will play either gender, without bias. For my plots I have no specification as to who I play as it's the plots I'm most interested in exploring. More importantly I don't care whether you're man, woman or horse as long as you're skills are adequate. I am unbiased. Completely. I enjoy writing both men and women and gender in no way affects my enjoyment of the role play. In fact I'm pretty sure I could write as a cabbage as long as I had enough creative license. Bottom line I would still enjoy it. I don't role play to throw idealised versions of myself into situations, I play because I enjoy plots and story development. That happens independently of who I am playing.

As for pairings, I will hand on my heart say I prefer mxf, that is my main preference personally and thus it's the one I find most comfortable. If discussed I might be swayed to any other kind but the premise will have to be tempting. I'm not interested in the simple scandal of same sex couples; I don't find it particularly scandalous or interesting on it's own I'm afraid. Maybe I'm too acclimatised to it.

My Original Plots - Hearts designate particular cravings

{His Pet} ~ T A K E N by Ebb

This is a story about a girl and her teacher, it’s been a long term fantasy of mine for as long as I can remember and I would love to play it to fruition. However it’s taken me a long time to decide exactly how I would best like it to play out. I think I have finally figured out the general plot and I’m hoping somebody will read it and be vastly interested. Obviously things can be changed here and there, I’m not that strict.

There is a teenager in his class, he shouldn’t notice her, it’s entirely inappropriate that he does and he knows it. It’s not like he hasn’t been teaching for years, it’s not like she’s even the prettiest student he’s seen in his time. The skirts have gotten shorter and shorter over the years of teaching at this high school and he’s long come to terms with the fact that he must stop himself noticing. Not an easy thing to do, but he’s managed to shut off. The girls are kids in his classes and he’s taught himself to believe it. Until she came along.

He isn’t even sure what it is about her, well that’s a lie.

He knows.

When she comes in and winces slightly, occasionally, when she sits down, he knows.

When she wears her hair down to cover the bruises and marks along her neck and collarbone, he knows.

When those green eyes refuse to hold his and a crimson stain blushes along her cheeks, he knows.

When she squirms in her seat when he’s berating her for not having done her homework, he knows.

When she forgets to wear panties underneath too short skirts, he knows.

When her fingers absently trace the bruises at her wrists, or the small always covered blemishes that scatter her body, he knows.

He knows because he knows every inch of her body, every inch of those bruises. Because he put them there, every, last, one.

How is it his fault? How was he supposed to resist such an untainted, insatiable little masochist? All spread out and offering herself to him, perhaps not with words but he’d known what she was before she had and it hadn’t taken much effort to show her how much he could give her. Now it was like an addiction, how on Earth was he supposed to give her up? His job was on the line, there was no way he wouldn’t be thrown in jail, perhaps just sex could be forgiven but what they did? No. He’d be locked away and never allowed out.

Pinching the bridge of his nose angrily he dismisses the class ten minutes early, nobody hesitates they all flee from the room in case he suddenly changes his mind and their early dart from school is forsaken. He remembers vaguely what it was like when ten minutes made such a difference. Of course she doesn’t flee, she takes her time and his eyes don’t leave her body as she picks up her books, slowly, and then sashays passed him, swaying her hips in that way that damn near hypnotises him. He doesn’t even think it’s intentional, but it works and his eyes follow her out, then he groans and she laughs because he’s seen what she wanted him to.

The ghost of a still red handprint poking out from the beneath the hem of the pleated, tartan fabric.

It doesn’t matter that she’s gone now, he’ll see her again, after all she’s lived next door to him for years.

It really is the most ridiculously unfortunate situation.

And he thinks he might flog her tonight for utterly destroying his ability to think about anything else.



Other Bits

I would like to kick this off at the very beginning, a blossoming relationship between student and teacher, neighbour and neighbour. The heavy emphasis on her masochism is important, as is his sadism. It’s not a healthy, romantic affair, it’s a filthy, consensual mess which from the outside would look abusive as Hell.

That said I imagine feelings will develop and I don’t want the entire emphasis to be on BDSM. It will be incorporated of course, heavily, however there will also be a plot blossoming to. Dangerous, dangerous plot. I want it to be realistic and as gritty as you can manage.

Mainly I don’t just want this to be an outlet, if you want a one shot between a teacher and a student then that’s fine, go and find one. But this I want to be as much about their character’s development both together and apart, relationship growth, change and a deep insight into in depth and well thought out characters.

As well as a hell of a lot of we-shouldn’t-be-doing-this sex!

Fenwy Park {A Victorian Murder-Mystery}
Fenwy Park

mystery – suspense – horror – thriller – historical – steampunk(?) – Victorian – time-travel – romance(?) - drama

The Yorkes are one of the most powerful and influential families in Wales, this is a fact that is uncontested, their reaches stretch most of the way across Victorian Britain and even to the Queen herself. However at its core, like most families, it’s complicated, convoluted and rife with complex rivalries and troubles. Their sprawling mansion in the centre of the Welsh valleys is isolated for most of the winter months and though there are swarms of servants the surrounding villagers know very little about their wealthy patrons.

This is a murder-mystery with a difference.

Your character knows the large house well, having grown up in the large town less than a few miles from the enormous well-kept palace they have spent their childhood learning about its history, finding nooks, crannies, places to hide, passages and forgotten rooms. It’s only natural when both of their parents are the head curators of the historical home. Since the Victorian days of old the mansion has been preserved and kept as a shining example of eighteenth and nineteenth nobility and servant life. Very little is different about the house, save for the constant stream of tour-groups and school trips.

It wasn’t a bad place to grow up.

Especially when your best friend was usually around, showing you all of the best hiding places and generally helping you escape from the crowds. The two of you could get lost for hours in the gardens, or sneaking up into the attics which were strictly off limits. Your parents never seemed to mind when you fetched back some forgotten trinket or other. Of course it’s been a while since childhood, it’s been a while since you’ve seen your friend.

The Story

The story will kick off the return of the best friend, after a decade of being gone she will show up, of course a lot of growing up has been done by both. However this time she has confessions to make; she needs your help. Desperately. Which is why she has come back.

Without conscious decision or forewarning your character is dragged back in time and finds themselves slap bang in the middle of the heaving house, the same and yet utterly different because the year is 1856. Looking to your friend for answers that you just don’t have, it might come as a surprise that she seems entirely in-step with the life. What’s more is that nobody else seems concerned with her sudden presence.

There are horrible things afoot in the house and nothing is quite what it seems, everything your character knew about the Yorkes and their lives is about to be utterly and completely turned on its head.

Time is running out for your friend.

Time is running out for your character.

Your character;

Your character can be whoever you want them to be, with the stipulation that they grew up in/around the house and have a pretty deep obsession with the history of the house; at least superficially.

Anything else is utterly up to you.

{Dragoste & Minciuni} ~ T A K E N by Wistful Dream
Romania
Trişorul Camp
1902


This story is all about mystery and magic, legends and folk lore and perhaps most importantly of all deception. Its setting is a circus, a travelling circus whose origins can be traced back centuries. The gypsies who run it are part of a tribe that had routes all over Europe and ties to nowhere. They travel the length and breadth of the continent, reading palms, telling fortunes, selling trinkets and working their own brand of magic and legend. Nobody messes with the gypsies, though people all over know of them. Gifts are laid out at the feet of the caravans to try and keep their curses at bay and the other cheek is turned when chickens and live-stock disappear occasionally during the travellers stay.

The leader of the merry band, a self-proclaimed Gypsy King Emilian Balcescu, is a great oaf of a man but their fortunes have increased greatly since he took over. Suddenly their gold stocks are vast and they are turning over more than enough of a profit. Such good luck must be coming at a price somewhere, he is a cruel and malicious man, but for now his people are prepared to overlook it. Greed and fear are powerful motivators.

This story isn’t about him though; this story is about his young, elusive and sheltered daughter. A teenager whom he goes out of his way to shield from curiosity. Every boy and man in the tribe know that she is off limits and as lonely as she might be she is spoiled. But is this restriction for her own good or for the protection of the rest of the gypsies?

Now as with most stories everything is going according to plan until the arrival of a mysterious stranger. It is a very rare occasion that outsiders are embraced into the travelling fold, and so it’s with a great deal of mistrust and scepticism that a new magician is allowed to travel with them. The feats he performs are such that none have ever seen, though whether he is just very, very talented or whether there are less easily explained origins, it remains unknown.

There are legends though, old stories of which tales are now being whispered in hushed tones between the elders of the camp. Legends filled with magic, devils in disguise, forked tongues and moroi. But these old stories couldn’t possibly be true, could they? Still there are memories of tales warning the Trişorul of outsiders and his presence is causing quite some unrest for the elders. Emilian cares little though; he gauges his problems on the coin in his purse and not on old whispers.



The bits you need to know
This is going to be a love story, there can be as much or as little of the supernatural elements as you like. Whether it’s all legends and hearsay, or whether there really are dark forces at work – that’s up to you. Though I see it as more as a love-story based in a horror. The over-all theme needs to be quite dark.

Of the protagonists, the outsider and the daughter, I have no preference over which character I play. I’ve deliberately given very little thought to either to keep them both entirely flexible.

As for the naughtier aspects, I have quite a few ideas for this. None of which I feel comfortable writing here, so if you’re interested in the story PM me and I will gladly bombard you with my decadent desires.

{Deadspeak}♥

This idea is almost entirely plagiarised f om the genius Brian Lumley. I have no regrets about this because the Necroscope books are some of the most amazing things I’ve had the pleasure of reading. However the amount of people who have read those, well, I haven’t yet met any besides me. Especially none (of the none) who will happily role-play it. So, I’ve morphed the ideas that shaped my childhood (these, kids, were my bedtime stories and if you knew me you likely wouldn’t be surprised. My mother had no such concerns of over-exposure to violence or terror) into something of an original plot in the hopes that I can entice people. Sparkly vampires, pfft, meet the Wamphyri.


She wasn’t one of those ‘normal’ people, the people that everybody is shocked when something abnormal happens. You know the ones, the ‘perfect daughters, devoted friends, loving girlfriends’, it’s never weird people that get horribly mascaraed. Or if it is people all collaborated in some unspoken conspiracy to strip them of the oddities in death. Nobody would have been particularly surprised if Hannah had pulled a machete out in class one day, nobody would have been surprised if she suddenly dropped off the face of the Earth. It wasn’t that people were afraid of her, or that she was unpopular; it was just that should something go wrong, if they heard the name Hannah Mathias they wouldn’t have been astounded by any titbit of information that followed.

Even passed the immaturities of youth, her co-workers still eyed the journalist with scepticism, her friends still thought there was something that they couldn’t quite put their fingers on. People like her well enough, she’s a reliable woman who doesn’t over-step the mark and is always well spoken. But human nature is usually pretty good at discerning when things aren’t quite right and Hannah, well, she wasn’t quite right at all.

In fact, ever since he could remember, Hannah could talk to people that she shouldn't be able to, and for understandable reasons it was a secret she kept close to her chest. At first she’d held out hopes that it was some rare strain of schizophrenia, but as he got older and the voices got more insistent she lost all hope that she might just be crazy. For this reason Hannah had learnt early on to avoid certain places, proximity to graveyards for instance rendered him almost incapacitated by desperate and hopeful pleas. When she had been young that had been enough; but now as she grew older and her abilities became more attuned to her body she was starting to realise the dead were everywhere. And it was the dead that were talking to her.

No matter what people speculated, life didn’t end at death and minds continues to think, talk, live beyond the end. Hannah could hear them all inside her head, like some sort of cruel curse. What was worse is that the dead seemed to want to speak to her, in fact they never seemed to want to stop. It was getting harder not to answer them. What was even worse is she was damn sure that lately there were people following her, watching her, no matter where she went.



Premise

So the idea is that there are two characters, the main character being Hannah who can speak to the dead quite harmlessly. Then there is a government agent who works for a specific branch of the British intelligence solely dedicated to ESP centred issues (E-Branch, see how original I am. Again thank you Mr Lumley). The agency knows all about the protagonists predecessors', abilities and more besides. They also know how much danger she is in without mastering his powers, especially since they’re not the only people hunting her.

It's the Agent's job to get the young woman on side, to convince her that E-Branch need her help and that her powers are not a curse. With a little bit of encouragement her abilities could be as unlimited as those before her. Not only has the Agent got to convince her, they're also tasked with keeping her alive long enough to learn.


The Bits You Really Want to Know
This is more of a plot orientated story; there will of course be plenty of naughty themes but largely based in surrealism and steeped in the supernatural. In truth I’m hoping the protagonist’s team up, something of an illicit affair of manipulation and an aura of the forbidden. As for the actual sexual nature of their relationship it will be by no means monogamous, they will be dealing with sexually charged creatures, monsters and the like. Basically I want to use the story to explore and invent all sorts of perversions and possibilities. Whatever you can imagine, goes. :)


{Epidemic}♥
I can’t quite decide whether this would be better on another planet or just severely futuristic. Ah well, that can be discussed I suppose. The general outline is this;

The World

This world is an entirely different place, little more than a barren wasteland, highly policed and intensely paranoid and secure. Cities are well spaced out and over-packed, large, secure highways connect the cities and are always stagnant with traffic. With twelve lanes the amount of pollution the crammed highways produce is almost choking and this means very few people move out of their cars when outside of the cities. It also means the highways are beacons whilst lost in the endless scrubland. Except that being the only way to safely move between cities they're encased by high walls and intensely frigid security.

The cities are in themselves enormous, probably the all the size of an averagely sized America state. Entirely walled it, they house the ever growing population and inside the cities. Within these walls remain the only inhabitable land left of the planet and so they are over-crowded and thick. From the slums at the lower levels right up to the higher echelons of society who pay vastly for their space and even gardens, which in this world are a very rare thing indeed.

Each city had an independent emperor, but all are answerable to the Capital which has a ruling King and government. This government decide everything and lay the law whenever they can. Though most cities deal with their own crimes, severe crimes such as murder and treason, can only be tried in the Capital. The Capital is the largest city in the world and is easily four times the size of the others, it also houses more corruption than any other and the population there is so crowded that it is almost impossible to afford to live there. The streets are littered with homeless and even though it is insanely populated people still flock there.

Of course there are other problems plaguing the world other than a corrupt government. Disease, famine, and poverty are crippling the planet and for the poor and less fortunate things are a constant struggle. Healthcare has become a privilege that most can’t afford and as such drugs and other such novelties and addictions are rife.

The Disease

One of the most dangerous diseases going is vampirism. Once upon a time it was rare, very few contracted the disease and those who did kept it very quiet. It is even rumoured that it was once considered a blessing rather than the curse it is today. After an intense outbreak one hundred and twelve years ago, security tightened on those infected. The outbreak not only saw mass hysteria in the streets, it also saw the impossibly strong infectee’s bring down multiple of the cities guard, killing hundreds of enforcers, policemen, not to mention innocent people caught in the fray. Little is known about the disease save that it prevents the body from making its own blood, therefor it has to be ingested so that the body can absorb the nutrients from another blood source.

This process also increases speed, muscle tone, senses and reflexes, however it also causes many internal organs to decompose causing infections and sepsis. Few survive beyond the first month and without intensive blood consumption it’s unheard of to survive the first week. It takes years for the benefits to weigh in enough for any noticeable change to occur and few make it to the stage. It is speculated that the longer the disease festers, the stronger and more dangerous the carrier becomes.

Since then it has been outlawed, those infected are forbidden on pain of instant death to enter the cities and are banished to the outlands. As such their numbers have dwindled but even through the better efforts it is far from wiped out. The farmers who live on the outskirts have to take measures to keep their cattle safe from the leeches and whilst travelling people are warned not to leave their cars out of fear of the starving diseased.

When at full strength these ‘vampires’ are formidable, which is why it is outlawed to let one feed. Luckily for the kingdom the strict laws, frequent vehicle checks, and a ruthless checking process upon entering cities has ensured that they are never at full strength.

The Plot

The female will be a girl (17 – 22) that wakes up in the middle of the outlands, entirely without memory or knowledge of this place. In fact all she remembers is Earth. Anything about this world, she has to learn. The male will be a long infected vampire, who is looking for a way to get into the Capital. Naturally because of his 'state' technically he's not allowed there.

Of course the girl isn’t going to know any of this; in fact all she knows at the start is that she’s in an entirely unfamiliar place and somehow she has to convince a complete stranger to help her.

Obviously anything here is up for discussion if you are interested.


The Bits You Really Want to Know
This is very much a predator/prey relationship, though steering away from the non-consensual BDSM side of things it’s going to be mainly a struggle between capabilities and need. Sort of a desperate, violent relationship which is mostly consensual. The relationship will be slow building and it will be something of a masochist/sadist pairing, yet without the more conventional forms of this.

Obviously particular desires can be encompassed, but as I'm a romantic at heart I would prefer if something developed of the emotional sort.


{Knots}
Knots

We want to be in a situation under maximum pressure, maximum intensity, and maximum danger. When it's shared with others, it provides a bond which is stronger than any tie that can exist.
[/sup]

Two SAS Agents have been through hell and back together. They’ve done things for their job that they can’t speak about, thinks that they have to keep secret even from the people they love the most. Outside of missions they have little to no contact, they both have entirely separate lives. But on the job, well that’s an entirely different matter. These two particular agents are partners a lot of the time, though not exclusively with each other their bosses haven’t failed to notice how well they work together.

When they’re sent away on a mission that lasts longer than they anticipated things progress to a level their partnership has never progressed to before. Spending a year posing as a married couple takes its toll and the two find themselves blurring lines they never thought possible. Unable to admit how they felt, both for their own personal reasons when the mission ended the two went back home. Granted a leave of absence due to the length of the mission they haven’t seen each other in nearly a year. One stayed off longer due to an injury and even when they were both back working they were never on the same jobs.

Now though they’re paired up again for the first time. Things are never that easy though, things have changed, with absolutely no knowledge of who the other person is outside of their career personas they’re not even sure they could breech that line if they wanted to. But can they help themselves?

--Basic plot, obviously can be worked on & opened up etc--


The Bits You Really Want to Know
An intense and burning need to keep from getting caught, there will be lots of risky sex in this. Secrets, fumbled moments here and there. A rushed, dangerous vibe with the potential for a pregnancy angle. This will be a less an emotional thing at first and more a desperate desire, feelings may well form but for a long time they would likely take a back seat to the sex.


{Un-expecting}
Un-expecting

This story involves some variation of a sibling relationship, I don't mind whether it's half sibling, step sibling, full sibling or whatever else you'd like.

They're relationship is fuelled by an insatiable lust for the other, a passion which caused them to break the social taboo's in order to get what they wanted. The problem was that the more they had of each other the more they wanted. They were extremely discreet and their family never knew what went on between them when everybody else was sleeping. Snatched moments here and there that they were always meticulous about.

The rule was always do not get caught.

And they didn't, but the problem is that now she's pregnant. With no boyfriend and her tame social life she isn't sure how she'll explain it, but if the truth comes out it will rip her entire family apart.

This isn't a secret that can be kept for long. Sooner or later people are going to notice. Right?


The Bits You Really Want to Know
Incest, forbidden sex, pregnancy, potential age-gaps, dominance, possible non-con – all heavy themes in this so if any of them squick you, steer clear. The sex I should imagine would be risky, under-the-nose-of-others, lots of potential for awkward situations and getting caught. It will be a love story, I hope, but one that will never have a happy conclusion.


{Ab Aeterno} ~ T A K E N

Ab Aeterno
From the everlasting



The city was dark, torches from the stores either side lit the narrow cobbled streets of the capital, flames fluttering, oblivious to the torment and blood that had bathed these very walkways not so very long ago. These days’ people moved through the darkness, their heads down and their voices low, pretence that everything was normal but a lingering sense of danger that war had seeped through to the population’s very core. It would pass, feelings were fleeting and even now there was laughter in the distance carrying over the smoggy city. Humanity was adaptable and memories gave way to new ones constantly, if one stood still they could witness the very change in the air, but so few stood still these days. The Parisian night-life was slowly but surely coming back to life as people braved leaving their homes, the bitter winter was ebbing away to a brisk spring and with the less frigid climate brought hope.

Through one low doorway in particular, there was deathly silence but though born initially of fear it mostly served to symbolise the rapt attention of the crowd surrounding the old crone sitting at the bar. Romany, it was obvious by the style of her dress and the darkness to her skin, if that was not enough the gold decorating her neck, fingers and ears would leave anybody in little doubt. Perhaps a beauty once her hair was now laced with grey, very little of the dark locks remaining, skin weathered and wrinkled. This didn’t hinder the stares though and everybody watched her, listened as the words poured from her lips. Her French was broken; every now and then she would stumble over a word and retreat to a different language in order to press her point. The subject was as morbid as they came these days, the dark, grim legends of the moroi, vampires. The gypsy’s tales had gained new fervour on the back of the bloody war and the massacre of some of the oldest families in Europe, and the travellers were never a group to hold off on making a profit. It was more than likely they edged the legends along, in a time that was ripe for the conjecture of superstition and fantasy.

People were so desperate for some intangible fear to cling to, something that they could insist wasn’t real, something to eclipse the terror that many had witnessed. A coping mechanism exploited to make a profit and those that complained of it the loudest were merely bitter about not having thought of it first.

Every so often the old woman would pause as if her throat was sore, gold would tease more information from her lips but she would feign reluctance and exhaustion. It was an old trick, but evidentially when one pedalled tales of nightmares then one will easily get away with it. A couple watched on from the corner, close to the window, with seemingly rather less interest than the rest of the crowd.

“The thing that should be at the forefront of your mind when dealing with the beasts; is that the myths, the legends that you see, read, hear – they’re origins are all the same. Vampires are not to be trusted; their weaknesses are passed around well-known enough, but those weaknesses spewed forth from their fork tongued mouths so long ago. Would you trust the word of the devil? They would happily exaggerate the legends that don’t hurt them, that which holds no fear for them. However they would keep silent about their real-“

“You’re saying they do not work? What of wooden stakes, mirrors, crosses, garlic?” Somebody interrupted from the back but the old woman didn’t miss a beat, she had practiced her part well and often, her purse was heavy now and she was pleased enough to indulge in the way that most old women like to talk. Even though she should be heading back to camp she shook her head and forgot herself for a moment, success and liquor fogging her mind, she forgot the reason that the real weaknesses of legends were not spoken of.

“And what of your mind? Would you wield a stake before a creature that could slide inside your mind, convince your own arm to independently drive the object through your own heart? They are not things that can be slaughtered easily; an army might do it at a push. If they knew the key, the only way to properly destroy a vampire. Fire. You have to burn it. For a beast that can regrow limbs at will, even decapitation is pointless. You’ll stop it for a while but given time even the head will regrow. Fire, you need to destroy the body and the beast within which-“

“Enough” a firm voice cut through the hushed silence. As one the crowd turned to face the woman that had spoken and the gypsy’s own eyes fastened to the young girl. “Do you not think we have enough tales of blood and murder to fill our nights without inventing more?”

“You think these are merely bedtime stories?”

“I think they are nonsense” Ecatarina Landau spoke, the slight girl was sitting with her husband who by direct contrast was a brute of a man. The Duke of Leuchtenberg was not only tall, but also built for fighting and at six foot one he stood almost two heads taller than his wife who barely topped five foot six, the large man didn’t move though; he didn’t even turn his head in reaction as the girl spoke. “Monsters are not real; we have enough in our midst without inventing vile creatures to haunt our thoughts in our beds.”

“What of the Archdukes of old, Counts, Palatines none of whom are returning home. Do you think that mere coincidence? The slaughter of entire lines of nobility-”

“I think that if you are implying they were vampires they cannot be so powerful if they were so easily put down by an army. There are no sinister motives behind these deaths, or at least none so far from the gains of land and money that falls to the Kingdom at the death of heirless men.” A few of the gazes shifted back to the old woman to hear her rebuttal but a great portion had already lost interest and had begun making their way to their homes. Things seemed to be taking a turn away from the macabre and heading in a far more political angle and politics were not something people discussed lightly at the moment.

“Years of easy living, isolation, it made them ill-prepared is all. Men’s trickery-“

“Again I say enough. Go and pedal your poisonous prattle elsewhere.”

“I merely try to educate dear,” the old woman stood and collected up her money from the bar, it appeared that the story had reached its end after all. Ecatarina watched as she moved out of the room but it was another hour or so before the young woman and her husband stepped out onto the street, she was surprised to find the woman still there in the cold night air talking to a few stragglers from inside. Beneath her hooded cloak she swept away down the street but her hearing, her immaculately attuned, impossibly accurate hearing, picked up every word spoken as if she were stood right next to the woman.

“What if there are more, more to come and avenge their fallen brothers?”

“There won’t be, vampires are solitary, territorial things, their co-operation can be sustained perhaps briefly for an adequate prize but left alone they would happily destroy each other, do not fear over much. Vampires mostly desire to be alone.”

“And what of you?” The Duke walked back towards the group, his gravelly, deep voice threatening, towering above them all, his forearms were as thick as most men’s legs. “Are the gypsies not supposed to be loyal to these vampires?”

“You speak of the Szgany?” she said with a knowing smile, “perhaps there was a time long ago. But alas, there are no great lords left to pledge loyalty to.” It was obvious she was indulging his scepticism now, playing on his doubts before she excused herself and finally made her way down the street. Ecatarina watched from the shadows only stepping out as her husband drew near, he didn’t react as she stepped in line with him, he didn’t react to anything that she did not will him to. Outwardly she was mostly hidden in darkness, the midnight satin of her thick hooded cloak gave nothing but the merest glance at the porcelain skin and delicate features of the woman beneath, except for the bright, knowing blue eyes which even the darkness was having trouble masking.

It would be better for all of them when she could return back to her home, or perhaps even his, all the Duchess could do was hope that whatever the Emperor wanted from Jochen would be finished soon. Experience had taught her to be ill at ease in cities, around human’s and with so called ‘vampire hunters’ running rife all looking to make their fortune, rumour and stories were beginning to border on offensive. Still occasionally it was handy, if even to wheedle out the few who knew too much.

The old gypsy woman would be found in her bed tomorrow, every last scrap of sanity banished from her mind, rambling and fighting against sweat drenched sheets. For there were after all, some things that needed to be kept quiet and Cat was not at all fond of people knowing too much about her condition. Mystery was part and parcel of what had kept her safe this long and with so many fallen she needed to be even more careful. So as Ecatarina walked towards their home, seemingly guided by the protective hand of her warrior husband she reminded herself who she was and bit back the burnt pride that the animal within prickled at. For now she wasn’t Ecaterina Dănești, it was quite possible she would never be able to openly lay claim to that name, that dynasty ever again, though for all the names she had brandished her own was still her favourite.

At the moment she was Duchess Catherine Landau, beautiful, young English bride of the near savage and untameable brute Jochen Landau, Duke of Leuchtenberg. Touching a hand to his arm she smiled wryly, he hadn’t been so hard to tame in the end. As they stepped into the carriage that would take them from the city proper to where their home lay on the elite outer-rings of the city, Cat sat and folded her hands against her silken skirts, she hated to ride when she could traverse the distance on foot in less time but there were always appearances to worry about.

These were dangerous times.

Morning was not too far off now, even though it would be a while before the sunlight broke through the thick cloud that obscured the stars from view, she could still sense the harmful, acidic shift of the Earth towards that hateful period of light. Jochen would be her eyes then as she engulfed herself in shadows, he had business tomorrow as he had had every day for the past week, and she was eager to find out what new developments would disturb their newly found peace. Most women would stay in the country whilst their husband attended to matters of business, but she had never been most women. It was agonising enough to remain a spectator when she should by rights be exerting her place in the world, without remaining entirely isolated and unseen as well.

She might be a woman but the thing inside her, the ever-growing thing, was not. The restrictive, weakly feminine body that it found itself housed in was a crippling, frustrating disability that it had not yet been able to transcend. Hush, her mind soothed as it always did when she felt her insides begin to creep and crawl, no matter; we have made it work until now. Frailties of her gender aside, it didn’t hinder the sharpness of her mind and survival was something her and the beast could at least agree on.

{Masquerade}
Masquerade

Rome - 1849

By the time I turned seventeen I was quite resolved to the fact that nothing exceptional would ever happen to me. My life was as perfectly ordinary as you could get. I had grown up with a small family in a humble home in Rome, we did not have much but my brother, mother, father and I were seemingly happy. I have so many fond memories of my childhood that I was quite determined that I had had my share of happy memories for my lifetime and now all that awaited me was routine and mediocrity. When I was twelve my mother had fallen in and died very suddenly. This ended my father and down he spun into an alcohol dependency that would reshape our entire world. In the five years since he has become an entirely different man from the happy and attentive father I grew up with, in his place was a violent and depressed stranger. On the rare occasion he would get a job his money went straight back into his liquid dependency. Thus my brother and I slowly grew used to having to steel food to eat. My one potential hopeful outlet was the thought that one day I would be rescued from this life and forge my own way with a husband that would remind me of how my father used to be. You would think the devastating effect my mother’s death had on him would put me off thoughts of love and yet I always felt there was something poetic about the fact his world ended with her. It made it nigh impossible for me to hate him; though that was not something my brother struggled with. Of course the older man never laid a hand on me it was my brother that bore the brunt of his temper, the brother who had spent his childhood being tormented by an older sister was now the only thing that stood between me and intolerable cruelty.

The house which we had once loved was now a dark and miserable place which we both tried to avoid at all costs, which was how I came to be wandering along the banks of the Tiber that fateful night. I hadn’t meant to steal; it was not something I enjoyed or an act which ever failed to fill me with an enormous sense of guilt. But having eaten nothing in days can seriously affect your judgement, the last scraps of food we had I had sacrificed to Arturo, my brother in the hopes that it would somehow convey my gratitude and sorrow over his black eyes and swollen face. So when he brushed passed me without even noticing that I was walking next to him it was almost involuntary that my hand reached into the depths of that impossibly thick cloak. The majority of what happened next transpired before I could even fully comprehend the situation. Firm, gloved fingers wrapped around my slim wrist tightly as he near lifted me clear off my feet with one grasp. My back was to the river and for a horrible moment I thought he was going to push me into the cold, polluted city waters. Then as he looked down at me I was quite sure I would rather get wet than stare into those angry eyes a moment longer, I mention only his eyes because they were the only thing of his face that was visible. The rest was entirely hidden behind a white mask. Trembling from both the shame of getting caught and the fear of what he was going to do to me I stood there, feet half off the ground as his hand held painfully to my wrist.

“I-I’m sorry” I stuttered pathetically in my native Italian, I must have looked quite the wretch stood there. Caught red handed. My dress was patched and altered beyond any normal recognition of its former beauty. I only owned four dresses, three of which I had been measured for when I was twelve. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you of the changes to a girl that happen from the age of twelve up to eighteen, but having no other means of clothing I had little choice but to alter them myself. I am a poor seamstress and an even poorer designer and would have probably looked more appealing had I worn rags. My hair is pale yellow, a far cry from the majority of the city which heralds dark locks as the epitome of beauty in a woman. The pale mess was currently hanging in limp somewhat dirty curls around my face and shoulders. Dark locks and soft voluminous curves were apparently beautiful, curves which I might have had, were I not so desperate for food. I was not a waif of a girl but I knew that my hips did not flare quite like other women, nor did my bosoms heave beneath my dress when I drew breath. My eyes were dark but despite the Italian blood that flowed undiluted through my veins my skin was pale compared to most. I was, I had always imagined, rather plain in appearance and certainly not what most eligible men were looking for.

Staring into the man’s eyes, quite sure that he meant to punish me for my transgression I found myself hoping that he would get it over with quickly. Nobody would think twice of a plain, half-starved girl found dead in the streets and my presence would probably go quite unmissed until my father noticed that they were living in their own filth because their diligent little maid had obviously not been home. That could take weeks. As I continued to stare I saw his expression falter ever so slightly and I wondered what he was thinking. If I only knew then what I know now I would have begged him to kill me, to spare me from falling so effortlessly into his trap and end it before it ever began. But of course I didn't and when he spoke for the first time, his one word pulsed through me with such beauty and dread that I did not know whether to fall to my knees or obey without question. How could there be so much splendour and power in one syllable? The word coupled with the releasing of my hand made me wonder why he was affording me such mercy. He meant to kill me; somehow I knew it in that moment with more certainty than I knew my own name.

Most girls would need to hike up their skirts to run as I did then, but it had been a long time since mine had been anywhere near the floor. As my feet pounded against the cobblestones obeying that one word before I had even finished contemplated it, I wonder now if he had any idea of the path he had put us both on. His voice, that almost inhumanly beautifully voice even then blossomed inside my skull, burning into my memory, shaping an obsession that would become as familiar to me as breathing. Looking back I only wish I had listened, for even then as I submitted to his command and fled home as fast as I could I knew I would need to hear that voice again. It never occurred to me that I mightn't see him again, I would, I had to, I was determined.

That first word was so filled with haunting foreshadow that even remembering it now it sends shivers down my spine.

The word was ‘run’.




The Bits You Really Want to Know
There are many ways this story could go; but the main idea is that this man, whoever he is, very rich and with very specific tastes sweeps the young woman from her life and poverty and offers her immense comfort and even affection in return for absolute obedience. Something (to be discussed) stops him from seeking his pleasures elsewhere, perhaps he never has, but something about either her disposition or her desperation makes her the ideal option. Suddenly he has an outlet for all his pent-up lusts and his tastes are not entirely normal. The girl will become a willing servant to his sexual desires; but that’s where the submission ends. In every other way she will push his buttons, wind him up and the two will very much be at odds for the majority of the story. Even should they develop feelings for each other; neither are pre-disposed to submission unless their clothes are off. I guess the idea is the idea that he breaks her will through sex because he cannot break her real will, and she tries to adapt to being in love with somebody who in all truth should be considered a monster.

{Sizaan Brii}
I confess I came up with this plot whilst playing endless hours of Skyrim, but I would be more than willing to adapt it to an original fantasy world setting.

Legends have long been whispered of Tey’doMoro, the name has haunted bedtime stories, campfires and taverns a like. Though the story invariably changes the most common form of the legend is this ballad sung the land over;

Long ago, when Dragon’s plagued the sky,
There so lived a Dovah Queen who reigned on high.
So differed from the rest, spilling song instead of fire,
Her fate was planned to seal upon a dragon’s treasonous pyre.

So learning of her doom, this dragon she did flee,
To fling herself upon man and beg them of their mercy.
With mourning and deception this dragon they did curse,
Trapping her within their realm, her power they dispersed.

And so the woeful tale ends,
Betrayed by both Dragons and men.
The Queen doth hide somewhere still,
Waiting agelessly for her master’s trill
.[/I]

There is but a grain of truth remaining in the fantastical ballad, as there is with most things. The original story has withered to nothing but the dragon’s name and fate were not entirely imagined. I’m about to tell you the old version, though not quite as beautifully tragic, it has the benefit of being true.

It is true that there were once dragons, and as a result there were of course female dragons. Though never, to my knowledge, a Queen. All Dovah were equal and none would allow pride to bow to anything but strength, as such they were not a species that would gladly adapt to the notion of having betters. Female dragons were somewhat rarer than males, but were by no means rare enough to make any of them special. As for their voice, it was every bit as devastatingly powerful as their male counterparts. As was their bloodthirsty and terrible nature.

According to The Dragon War, around the Merethic Era, Dragons considered themselves superior to man. For dragons, power equaled truth. They held immense power, so therefore they believed this to be the ultimate truth, and thus they ruled over man.

Dragons granted small amounts of power to the dragon priests in exchange for absolute obedience. In turn, the dragon priests ruled men as equals to the kings. The dragon priests demanded tribute and set down laws and codes of living that kept peace between Dragons and men.


One such Dragon Priest, was not content to simply worship his dragon however and the more power and respect she showed him the more he wanted. It wasn’t unusual for dragon’s to favour particular priests, it was however extremely rare for dragons to provide leniency such as she did. Granting him both respect and what some believed to be affection, the majestic beast and her human shared a connection that no Dragon Priest had seen before. As is the nature of man though, it was not enough and he sought more. The power festered within him and bred deception and so before long he was searching to betray the founder of his wealth and position. Unbeknownst to Tey’doMoro he was working to find a way to bind her to him even more fully, to strip her of her power and tie the creature to his whim in a way no Dragon would dream of.

It took great pains but he created a spell, a spell so powerful it took him years to forge. The spell had one purpose, to strip Tey’doMoro of her wings and tether the Dovah within a mortal shell. Then he planned to marry her, thus he would gain control over the dragon. The ultimate prize for him, the ultimate prison for her and the ultimate betrayal of a Dragon Priest that would permanently affect Dragon and Priest relations the land over.

Unfortunately the spell was entirely unpredictable and though it worked, it also proved to be volatile and consumed him in the same moment that the powerful Dovah was stripped of her wings and trapped in the body of a mortal.

Alone and trapped, she sought help from her kin but they could do little. Dragons have no magic to wield save that in their voices, and though they sympathised and avenged her upon men in yet another spike to the endless war, her fate remained the same. She was trapped, an ageless dragon in the withering body of a mortal being. The body would continuously die around her, kept alive by the curse alone but in no way strong enough to house a Dovah’s immense consciousness. The only way the body could remain healthy was through the magic of the Dragon Priest’s followers, who quickly shifted their allegiance to their new ‘Goddess’.

As the centuries passed so their numbers started to dwindle, their grasp on the magic’s that sustained her were slipping and she knew that the fortress which she had been sealed in for ages needed to be broken. Since the death of her last Dovah brother she had remained within the bosom of a mountain. Untouched with the outside world. It had been a long time since her last servant died and for the last hundred years she had remained within a rotting tomb of a body, agonised and near crazed by the pain; until a travelling mage stumbled into the cave and cured her. The brush with her eternal fate had emphasised what she already knew, she needed to find a way to break the curse. In this body she could never die and having lived for so long, denied her rightful form, she had quite lost the will to live any longer. Quickly securing the loyalty of the mage Tey’doMoro escaped the tomb where she had festered for ages.

She would be revenged upon men; but first she needed to find her wings.



Particular Cravings & Random Blurbs

If any of these appeal, shoot me a PM and we can brainstorm away;
  • Fantasy. Right now I'm absolutely addicted to fantasy be in laced with horror, supernatural, macabre, romance, magic, secrets, anything.
  • Middle/Dark age roleplay. I really want something grim and gritty, full of hardships and troubles.
  • I'd love to play a vampire role, not at all the tame almost de-fanged vampires of media today but something of my own mangled creation. The epitome of a femme fatale who is pitting against a man who's will (though not his body) is stronger than her own. I love the idea of a strong, impossibly violent creature being manipulated by a character that should by all accounts be far too weak for her to even consider.
  • I'd also quite like to play a nun if anybody has any ideas for this?
  • I'm always up for something with a pregnancy angle. It's a weakness...
  • Characters with deformities also captivate my attention greatly, the Beauty and the Beast/Phantom of the Opera angle pitting intelligence and talent beyond looks is incredible. Though I can not seem to find a single other person that agrees.
  • Harley Quinn x Joker, a good old bout of insanity never hurt anybody? Right ;)!
  • A Beauty and the Beast type plot could be a lot of fun, I'd love to explore the human/non-human sexual aspects. As well as the internalisation and horror of exploring something so far out of the character's comfort zone. However I have little interest in werewolves as an angle. I would prefer a certain amount of originality. But a beautiful girl getting ravaged and falling for a monster? I could dig that.
  • Anything really with a case of mistaken gender, a girl being mistaken for a boy, deliberately disguising as a boy - something along those routes.
  • And finally, I wouldn't mind trying something with a character who struggles with her weight, a BBW type of angle. Though there would need to be an actual plot there, whether you have one or we come up with one together, to retain my interest. Body-type is not an adequate angle to sustain a story alone.

Fandoms

House MD*; Spiderman*; Batman; Once Upon a Time; Criminal Minds; Big Bang Theory; Phantom of the Opera; Skyrim; Smash{I am aching for Derek/Karen}; Wicked; The Mentalist; Buffy; Desperate Housewives; Doctor Who; Captain America;Terminator; Harry Potter*; How I Met Your Mother; Leverage; Final Fantasy; The Borgias; The Tudors; Sweeney Todd; Assassins Creed; Hitman

~*~

Well, thank you for checking this out. If you fancy anything then shoot me a PM and we'll take things from there. If not then I hope I didn't waste too much time! Have a lovely day :) x
« Last Edit: March 12, 2013, 10:08:08 AM by Flickaha »

Offline Lavinia

  • "Between the idea and the reality, between the motion and the act, falls the Shadow"
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Re: Discernible Distractions
« Reply #1 on: June 27, 2012, 02:32:10 AM »
Oh me, oh my, you do Once Upon a Time. Well, color me interested, for tis something that I've been itching to do for some time now. Have you any character preferences?

Offline FlickahaTopic starter

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Re: ♥ Discernible Distractions ♥
« Reply #2 on: July 02, 2012, 07:36:37 AM »
Update: 02nd July 2012

I added a 'Bits you really want to know' section to almost all of my plots. Which basically covers all the sexual elements I would like or potentially like to see in the stories :).

Also added Particular Cravings & Random Blurbs to cover random fancies etc.
« Last Edit: July 02, 2012, 07:53:22 AM by Flickaha »

Offline FlickahaTopic starter

  • ツ Deviously Delectable ❤
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  • Ainsi sera, groigne qui groigne.
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Re: ♥ Discernible Distractions ♥
« Reply #3 on: July 26, 2012, 08:29:39 AM »
Bump: Added plots, a couple of fandoms, changed availability and tweaked some things here and there. :)