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Author Topic: Pick Your Poison (F looking for M)  (Read 2412 times)

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Offline SagittaTopic starter

Pick Your Poison (F looking for M)
« on: June 12, 2013, 07:47:42 am »

Hi, guys. I'm sending feelers out for compatible writing partners.
Do read on for more information you're looking for someone to play with, and DM me if you're interested.

  • As mentioned in the thread title, I'm looking for MxF roleplays where I'll play F. I write solely in threads, on E.
  • I'm a story-centered writer. I like a good build-up. Where plot-smut ratio is concerned, the most I will go for is 80-20. If you are looking to get down and dirty quickly, then I'm afraid that I'm not your girl.
  • I'm a sucker for romance, and my plots are usually geared towards younger characters, which is to say late teens until mid 20s. On that note, I'm not a huge fan of age gaps, in either direction.
  • When it comes to post length, I'm flexible, but I will need at least three well-written paragraphs to keep me interested. Give me something to sink my teeth into.
  • As much as I would love to, I cannot commit to rapid-fire responses. Please understand that I am married, work full-time in a taxing job, and have other interests and obligations. If you decide to write with me, the best that I can do is a post or two a week. Anything more than that would depend on how much free time I have and how invested I am in our tale - a bonus, in other words. I tend to spend quite some time mulling over my response and refining my composition so that my partners get solid replies. If something is not working out, I will let you know.
  • I appreciate partners who would plan and discuss with me to create something that we can both enjoy; however, this doesn't mean that we need to work out every single detail. I like to not know what is coming: I live for the unexpected in fiction. I love to be kept on my toes. That said, the lines of communication are always open, but please don't feel like we have to flesh out everything.
  • A good sense of humor is always a bonus. I like a bit of lightheartedness in roleplays, even amidst darker themes.
  • For me, characters are central to any roleplay. Indeed, I have a soft spot for character development, and I'm pretty comfortable playing diverse characters. That said, I adore chemistry and romance between characters. Witty banter is sexy. Escalating tension is sexy. Characters can be cool and aloof, warm and open, dark and mysterious, or fun-loving and bubbly. It doesn't matter as long as they are relatable and multifaceted, with flaws, desires, and motivation.
  • I reserve the right to decline any role-playing requests, for any reasons.

Themes, genres, and fandoms that I enjoy or would like to try:
Adventure | Comedy | Drama | Dystopian | Fairy Tales | Fantasy | Harry Potter | Harvest Moon
Medieval | Romance | Rural life | School Life | Slice of life | Stardew Valley

Pick Your Poison
Let's try something different.
Select what stands out to you the most from each section, and let me know when you contact me.

A: Choose Your Preferred Post Length
300-500 words
500-700 words
700-1,000 words
1,000+ words

B: Choose Your Preferred Classification
Non Consensual

C: Choose Your Preferred Plot

[Contemporary / Contemporary Low Fantasy] Masquerade (CRAVING)
Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
MC meets YC at a masquerade. Under guise, they hit it off and have a wonderful time together, parting at the night by exchanging numbers. They continue to text and exchange voice messages, never once revealing their true faces. Romance blossoms, until one day, MC slips up, sending YC a selfie that she intends to send to a friend. To YC's horror, MC is his sworn enemy, the pest that his parents wants him to marry and the girl he swears that he can never love.

**Don't mind switching the roles around for this.

[Contemporary Low Fantasy] Rental Boyfriend (CRAVING)
Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
A struggling college student finds work at a boyfriend-rental agency to make ends meet. She cannot explain her attraction to one of the men, though company policy dictates that employees cannot date. Perhaps that is a good thing because he is secretly a Dragon Lord from another dimension.

**Definitely want to play the college student for this one.
**Multiple characters welcome.

[Contemporary Low Fantasy] Magic
Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
A young lady (or young man, change the pronouns that follow accordingly) discovers magic and experiments with it, thinking that only she herself has the ability to wield its powers. What she doesn't know is that a guardian of the magical realm is searching for her. Humans are not supposed to possess or wield magic.

[Contemporary / Contemporary Low Fantasy] Liar, Liar
Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
Boy and girl meet and fall in love. There's only one small problem. They are both liars. One lies about being the crown prince (or princess, change the pronouns that follow accordingly) of a small but extremely wealthy kingdom to experience a carefree life as a commoner, while she pretends that she isn't sent to kill him.

[Contemporary Low Fantasy] The Angel After My Soul (TAKEN)
Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
As the demon, he has plans to take over and control all of creation, but on the precipice of success, something went horribly wrong, casting him into the mortal realm where he is forced to live among humans while rebuilding his strength. She is an angel sent to finish him off. There's also one minor problem. She isn't very good at this 'being an angel' lark. How will they navigate life as an angel and a demon undercover?

[Contemporary] Tangled Web (TAKEN)
Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
She needs a hot date to her snotty cousin's wedding, to which she had RSVP-ed with plus one. He wants to make his ex-girlfriend jealous enough to want him back. So the two neighbors strike a deal. What could possibly go wrong?

[Harry Potter] After the War
Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
Emerging from the wrong side of the divide during the Battle of Hogwarts, one affluent family tries to repair their reputation by matching their heir to the scion of a poor but heroic family. Unfortunately, the bewildered couple could not stand each other.

As you can see, all these are mere skeletons waiting to be padded out with a partner.
Male and female roles in all plots are interchangeable unless otherwise specified.

Extra Credit: Men That I Like Looking At (Optional)
Men Inspiration

Extra Credit: Women That I Play (Optional)
Women Inspiration

Have Ideas?
If you have ideas that you would like to talk to me about, particularly if they involve the themes and pairings that I like, give me a shout, and we'll see if we can work something out.

Thanks for reading!
« Last Edit: March 22, 2021, 03:16:46 am by Sagitta »

Offline SagittaTopic starter

Re: What I will do...(F looking for M)
« Reply #1 on: July 06, 2013, 10:02:25 pm »
Writing Samples

Original Character (Male)
Sheets rustled beneath lengths of sinew and muscle, a kiss brushing bare skin as Yuu Takano aroused from his slumber. Thin amber rays from street lamps illuminating the British suburb stole into the room through the gap in the curtains, aiding his search for discarded clothes. He shrugged into the Tom Ford shirt in one fluid movement, and dragged matching trousers up his legs. To Yuu, this practice was but a regular ritual -- heated nights of passion followed by a quick, subtle exit in the early hours of the morning. Much like a thief.

A quiet groan of displeasure pierced the stillness of the pre-dawn air, drawing his gaze to the brunette nestled in the downy depths of a bed made for kings. "Are you leaving already?" she said, a pout gracing her full lips as the blanket slid along ivory arms. "It's still dark outside."

"Mm. Plane to catch. You know how it is, Kali." Yuu flicked on the light by the dresser and tugged at his sleeves, examining his reflection in the mirror. "Besides, Ken comes home today, and I should make myself scarce."

"Oh, screw Ken. Always off with his polo buddies even when he's home. And talking shop with bloody bankers and stock traders at balls and parties. It's enough to bore me out of my freaking mind." Kalina stretched luxuriously, in a tactful display of her criminal chest. It was all clearly for his benefit, for his admiration.

"Don't speak as if I have not one banker or trader among my acquaintances." Yuu leaned over her, capturing her mouth with his in one slow, dizzying kiss. His fingers threaded through chestnut curls, only to graze her chin and lift her head to meet his own. "I shall quake in my boots at the thought of one day becoming old and dull."

"Never." Kalina pulled him into another kiss, pressing into him completely. "You are not like Ken. You are a lover, a dreamer, an artist. You see the world in color, not black, white, and shades of gray. Which is why I love you."

"And I shall be eternally grateful for your affection and adoration." Yuu returned with a peck to her forehead. "But if you don't release me from your ever so comfortable embrace, I fear that I may miss my flight and be forever condemned to a life in monochrome."

Kalina laughed and gave him a playful whack on his rear. "Whatever will I do with you?"

"Dine with me when I return?" His lips curled into a smile both symmetrical and devastating, while desirous fingers invited themselves on a delicious trail along her neck, blazing a path to her collarbone.

A sigh escaped Kalina. "You know I will. I'll make every excuse for that."

Yuu nodded, a shadow of satisfaction blooming across his visage. "Goodbye then, Kali my love. See you in a week."

He closed the door behind him, whistling a merry tune as he sauntered down the driveway and onto the sidewalk beyond. Lights twinkled at him, and the odd car or two roared down the residential road. Yuu unlocked his own, parked a block away for security reasons, and joined the trickle of early motorists. The past six months had been productive, even if the real work had begun long before then. Securing Kalina's contacts was the easy task, but to make her fall in love with him was a whole other playing field. After all, she was married to Ken. Rich, successful, darling Ken. The Ken who could do no wrong. The Ken of every girl's fantasy. The perfect husband. The ideal human that everyone should place on a pedestal and worship until their sins were redeemed. Or something to that effect.

Truly, you only fall short of turning everything you touch into pure, undiluted gold. But just you wait, cousin dearest. Oh, how your life will fall apart.

A fresh surge of hatred coursed through his veins at the less-than-pleasant memories of Ken, and Yuu steered the black Audi into a sharp turn, right into the parking area of his building, He brought his foot down on the brakes, forcing the vehicle into an angry, screeching halt. Nostrils flared. Chest heaved. Temples throbbed painfully. Once again, he found himself playing into Ken's hands. What did Ken call him? Volatile. Unstable. A freak.

Yuu leaned back into the headrest, catching his breath. Almost of its own accord, his hand slid into the hollow of the driver-side door, closing around his wand, The feel of the wood grain calmed him, serving as a much-needed reassurance of his abilities. Pocketing the wand, Yuu disembarked from the car and headed into the elevator, pressing the button for the penthouse. The doors opened to a sleek, minimalist design, and Yuu sat himself at the bar. He summoned a bottle of elf-made wine, filling two glasses.

"So, what's the latest update on the ultimate resolution for this year? Did you get the photographs that we need for a major exposé? Tell me you did. I tried so hard to arrange Kali and myself in the most compromising positions, and let me tell you -- it wasn't easy. She's a notoriously light sleeper and heavier than she looks in her pictures. It was like moving a baby whale the entire time." He took a sip of his drink. "How is Ken, by the way?"

Original Character (Female)
Kate Everett had been dreading this day for months. She ran the antique comb through her long, dark tresses a few more times, a convenient move to alleviate her worry. And yet, her hands remained clammy and her mouth uncommonly dry. This was it. The first day of the rest of her life. She exhaled deeply, trying to get a grip on her fraying nerves. It seemed silly for her to be so concerned about a standard procedure courtesy of the Ministry. After all, it was not as if she were getting married. Except she was, if she was unfortunate enough.

Her mother's words came floating back to her, commanding her thoughts as she dragged herself to the Great Hall for breakfast. "Don't fret, sweetpea," Perdita Everett had said on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, straightening her daughter's uniform just before she boarded the train back to school. "We have sent in a proposal, made a few respectable requests. With a bit of luck, you'll be matched with Nathaniel Oakes. Such a fine young man, though he is a tad older than you. If not, Andrew Kennedy will do nicely. He's half-American, you know, on his father's side. Good thing that they chose to raise him in England and send him to Hogwarts. I wouldn't say no to Aiden O'Brien, either, but I would prefer for you to marry closer to home."

Her mother then went on to highlight each lad's spectacular qualities, none of which Kate had cared for back then. She had hoped that the Ministry would soon come to their senses and only implement the new decree on adults who had left school, at the very least. Surely they were the ones who were suffering for marriage. In Kate's eye, being seventeen and of age did not make young candidates such as herself functioning adults. In fact, they were nothing more than fledglings on the brink of their first flight.

The Great Hall seemed rowdier than usual, particularly among the senior students. Several heads turned in her direction as she took her place at the Ravenclaw table, no doubt wondering whom she would end up with or pairing her up with unsavory suitors in their juvenile little minds. "This place has gone to the dogs," she muttered to her friend, Layla Davies. To her surprise and dismay, Layla did not seem at all disturbed that the Ministry would be announcing engagements -- probably even their engagements -- very shortly. Kate frowned a little, a tiny crease forming between her eyes. "Do you not care that you're being coupled off like a pair of chopsticks?"

Layla chewed, swallowed, and met Kate's gaze with a steadfastness that unnerved her. "Honestly, it's not so bad. There's nothing so wrong about being fixed up, and I do believe that the Ministry is doing what's best for us. Besides, I prefer my chances with the system than being left to choose from ... you know."

Half-bloods, she meant to say half-bloods. Or Muggle-borns. An involuntary shiver crept down her spine, and Kate tightened her grip around her fork to keep it from escaping her grasp. Its prongs scraped the surface of her plate, but none of her peers seemed to care, for the arrival of an important-looking gentleman had roused their interest. The headmaster promptly rose from the High Table, instructing all seventh-year students, and those who were of age from the sixth-year, to the adjoining auditorium. Kate snuck her toast into the theater with her, choosing a seat in the back. Perhaps if she made herself as inconspicuous as possible, the system might bypass her completely, though she knew, in her heart of hearts, that the very notion was impossible.

The Ministry official stepped up to the podium and began to address his audience, his voice crisp, clear, and business-like. But of course, Kate thought bitterly, cheeks warm with indignance. She could not bring herself to imagine a brighter future with this ill-conceived prospect. What are we if not pawns in business transactions, forced together for convenience, influence, or alliance? What about free will? Does that matter only to me, and no one else in this room?

She stole a look at her classmates, many of whom, she despaired to note, seemed earnest to be married not a moment too soon. Some appeared worried. She could see it in the eyes of those who kept glancing at their girlfriends of boyfriends. Her heart ached for these star-crossed lovers. If their names were not uttered in the same breath by the Ministry's executor, then their love was doomed to die. How would they cope, witnessing their beau getting betrothed to another? Probably like a knife stabbing them in the chest. Over and over and over and over.

The man up on stage paid no heed to her wavering attention, though he appeared to be well-versed in getting it back. Raising his voice just enough to sound impressive, he confirmed that engagements, once announced, were binding. Worse still, Mr. Ministry Officer reiterated that engaged couples must be married within a hundred days, or their families will face severe penalties. His statements resulted in a wave of murmurs coasting through the crowd, like a ripple formed by the drop of a pebble into a pond. "A hundred days?" Kate whispered feverishly to Layla. "That barely brings us to August!"

But Layla did not reply. The first name rang loud and clear, ricocheting off the walls like stray spells. "Leo Abbott!"

Canon Character (Male)
He had heard all kinds of things about the Great Lake. Myths. Legends. Tales so fantastic that even the most imaginative of children could not possibly have conceived them. Stories about aquatic beings that built and ruled a kingdom beneath its mysterious surface had captivated him from a young age, and into adolescence, Newt Scamander had never wavered in his obsession to discover the truth. "No one has seen a selkie in the Great Lake for many years," his mother had explained, in response to his eager questions. "It is said that they have died out."

The lad, however, thought differently. "Maybe they're just scared of wizards," he recalled his six-year-old self saying to both parents over bubble and squeak. "Maybe they've been hurt by magic before, and they're just hiding from us. Maybe we need to show them that we want to be friends. Do you think they'd like my new toy grindylow?" This belief followed Newt all the way to Hogwarts. It was the very reason why he had spent the last three weekends -- and this one -- camped out by the lake in the September chill. One day, I'll find a selkie. I'm sure of it.

A few leaves from a nearby beech tree fluttered onto the old two-man tent that Newt had set up. Against the majesty of Hogwarts castle and the lights twinkling from her towers and turrets, his accommodation for the night appeared forlorn and diminished, having survived scores upon scores of excursions into all sorts of wilderness. The humble abode was simply spacious enough to sustain small comforts for the traveling soul, including a tiny albeit malfunctioning kitchen stove and a bathroom the size of a regular wardrobe. But despite the lingering scent of pine and bacon that no spell could ever get rid off, Newt had a soft spot for his tent and regarded it as his home away from home.

He stood by the water's edge, tightening the cap on a flask and gazing out into the calm of the night. The only sounds around were that of an eagle owl swooping overhead and the mellow whistles of the wind. Conditions were perfect. All he needed was to get a proper fire going and then he could buckle down for some quiet observation. He started towards the tent, thin rivulets of cool liquid trickling down his arms. But as he turned to leave, a fleeting movement demanded his attention. Breath caught in his throat, Newt spun around, eyes fixed upon the lake's surface.

Nothing. Not even a fin.

His heart sank to the pit of his stomach as plopped on a grassy mound. Had he been wrong to think that selkies were more likely to appear under the cover and security of night rather than in broad daylight? Were they truly as extinct as everyone he knew made out to be? Sighing in a depressing blend of mild frustration and regretful disappointment, he flicked his wand at the pile of kindling before him, commanding into existence a merry blaze of flames. Feeling a mite better in the company of heat and warmth, Newt pierced a skewer through a pair of pink marshmallows, holding them over the fire. Just as they puffed and grew golden around the edges, an obnoxious splash came from the lake, followed by a louder cry for help.

The unfortunate marshmallows fell into the fire, where they melted and blackened around the metal stick. Newt sprang to his feet, fingers wrapped tightly around his wand. Something ... no, wait ... a girl was emerging from the Great Lake, dressed in nothing more than her ... nightie. At least that was what Newt thought it was called. And it was clinging to the curves of her body like a second skin. Through the flickering light of the campfire, he could very clearly make out the enticing way the wet fabric enveloped her chest and hugged her hips ... It was a most distracting image that he knew he would not soon forget.

Poor Newt blushed until he could not possibly turn any redder. If he could dig a hole in the ground deep enough the bury his embarrassment, he would. Torn between rushing to the girl's aid, like a gentleman should, and allowing her to struggle to shore on her own, he compromised by staying rooted to the spot. It wasn't until what felt an eternity of gawking at the newcomer's drenched ebony hair and dainty porcelain features like some loveless dork that he found his feet shuffling forward, free arm outstretched. "H-here, let me help y-AHHHH!"

His boot struck against a sneaky little branch. A twinge of pain crept up his leg, but that was absolutely nothing compared to propelling headlong into the lake. Newt thought he might have dragged the girl down with him, but perhaps she had escaped his supreme clumsiness. A stream of pin-sized bubbles rose before his eyes as he plunged into the lake's inky depths, reminding him of how very mortal he was. Was this payback for ogling a beautiful girl? I'm too young to die! Water burned painfully through his nose, and in his panic, he could not begin to tell one limb from another -- were they even all his?

Light. I should follow the light. Holding his breath, he pawed through the surface and spent the next thirty seconds flailing his way towards the bank. Eyes not quite seeing and lungs processing clean air greedy gulp by greedy gulp, Newt bumped against something soft and yet so firm. He stiffened -- or he would have if he wasn't trembling from cold.

Honking hippogriffs! Okay, keep calm. Breathe. Don't panic. Just ... pretend like you didn't know what that was.

Doubly sure that the night could not get any worse, Newt stumbled gratefully onto dry land, robes soaked and sloshing about his wrists and ankles, latching onto his flesh like they were flobberworms and he was a batch of fresh lettuce. "So, um, sorry about that," he said apologetically, searching eyes finally meeting the girl's for a brief moment before he pried the sky-blue gaze away from her delicate face and directed it at the uninspiring ground.

Good choice. There's nothing appealing whatsoever about dying grass. "Do you, uh, need any help drying off?" Water-streaked cheeks burned the moment the words escaped his lips. It dawned upon him just how that innocent question could be misconstrued. In about twenty different ways. "I-I mean it's perfectly fine if you'd rather do it yourself, of course," he added hastily, holding out both hands as if to disassociate himself from any potentially impure intentions she might think he had. "I should just, um ... " Shut up? Shoot myself in the foot? "... return to my marshmallows."

Canon Character (Female)
Rose Weasley carried the weight of the world upon her shoulders. For starters, she was quite up to her ears with eight N.E.W.T. classes -- which was twice as many subjects attempted by the average student. And if schoolwork was not keeping her busy enough, it seemed a good idea to heap on the extracurricular activities. Being captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team was no walk in the park. They practiced hard in all sorts of weather twice a week, often more. Rose wished that she could relinquish the post to someone else but her father was so proud when she received that badge two summers ago. In fact, Ron Weasley's face lit up with a glee that was not quite there when she received her prefect's badge two years prior. Talk about getting his priorities all wrong.

To say that her family piled all their hopes and expectations on her was an understatement. Rose bore the burden as best she could to uphold the family honor. In her mother's eyes, failure was not an option, and it was not enough just to succeed -- Rose had to excel. Lately, Hermione Weasley (nee Granger) had been the talk of the wizarding community, emerging as the clear favorite to take over as Minister of Magic when Kingsley Shacklebolt retires. It was both an honor and a headache, for the Weasleys now had to be extremely careful of their public image.

"You know, Rosie," Hermione had once said to her. "This is a huge deal for all of us. Women have to work twice as hard to be thought of as half as good as men. A female Minister for Magic is as rare as they come. We will finally have a chance to work for the changes that we sorely want to see."

Most of the time, Rose was inclined to agree with her mother. Intelligent and sensible, Hermione was her role model. But of late, Rose found her mother ... stifling. On and on she went about grades, about keeping up with appearances, and about a promising career in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement once she graduated from Hogwarts. True, there was once when Rose wanted to grow up to be just like her mother. But now, the thought of spending her days in an office in the Ministry, pouring over volumes and volumes of legal journals, ignited a little twinge in her chest. Still, Rose did not dwell on it, brushing it off as an unfortunate side effect of being a seventh-year student. Just the usual case of the nerves.

To force her attention away from the possibilities (or lack thereof) of the future, Rose focused upon the chart in her hands. If her brain had decided to play tricks on her, it was in poor taste. Indeed, she could not believe what she was seeing and had to blink twice to be doubly sure: The Slytherin team had booked the pitch for practice every darn day from 5 PM to 6 PM. That cannot be right. I specifically requested 5 PM to 7 PM on Tuesdays and Fridays. What are we supposed to do -- share? Jaw set in grim determination, Rose spun on her heel and stormed from the confines of the castle, long auburn locks dancing in her wake. Locating the culprit would be easy enough. Everybody knows that Scorpius Malfoy plays a game of 'Look at Me, Look at Me' by the lake every afternoon after classes. What a narcissist.

From the first day of school, his father had warned her not to keep her distance from Scorpius, though her mother had cautioned him not to pit the children against each other. Their parents were not exactly friends, so naturally, Rose inherited some of the old prejudice. and yet, at eleven years old, she had been quite willing to observe his behavior and how he treated the people around him. As days and years rolled past, Rose realized just how right her father was about the Malfoy heir. His only hope was that he would one day grew out of his self-absorbed ways, but she would be downright foolish to put her money on that.

Perhaps Scorpius had a bit of talent -- the slightest, most minuscule bit -- but Rose had always thought that his attitude was deplorable. She could not see past his faults. In her eyes, he was forever flirting with pretty girls -- or using them , rather -- to win favors and endlessly tormenting those that he deemed beneath his station. He kept a tight clique as well, one filled with the worst excuses for human beings. Together, they made fun of the socially awkward and iced out kids just for the sake of making themselves feel more important. Rose had always wondered how they managed to stay upright. Surely their large, overly inflated heads weighed them down much of the time.

She found the boy in question lounging in his usual spot, all the while hating the fact that she knew where to find him. Rose cut across the sloping lawn and crisp autumn air to march up to Scorpius. Heads turned as drying blades of grass crunched beneath her feet. It was as if the student population could smell a showdown coming and were eager to buy tickets. The Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy Match, that's what this is. Drama-loving heathens, Rose thought, slender fingers curled around the incriminating bit of parchment.

With fire in her eyes, she closed the gap between her and the adversary and shoved the chart right under his nose. Nobody would care if a few crackers were sacrificed in the row. "Change it. Reschedule your practice on Tuesdays and Fridays. Gryffindor has had those slots for years, and we're not about to give them up to Slytherin."
« Last Edit: March 14, 2021, 08:19:26 pm by Sagitta »

Offline SagittaTopic starter

Re: Craving Harry Potter and real life RP's (F looking for M)
« Reply #2 on: August 07, 2013, 08:28:44 pm »
Updated plots and availability.
Added picture inspirations to some plots.

Offline SagittaTopic starter

Re: Craving Harry Potter and real life RP's (F looking for M)
« Reply #3 on: October 11, 2013, 10:37:40 pm »
Back from a semi-hiatus. Craving some RP's, so bumping this.
Meanwhile, I'm looking to add some plots.

Offline SagittaTopic starter

Re: Craving Harry Potter and real life RP's (F looking for M)
« Reply #4 on: March 04, 2014, 09:05:41 am »
Back from a hiatus. Work and life got the better of me.
Looking to update plots/bring in new ones.

Offline SagittaTopic starter

Re: Craving some RP's (F looking for M)
« Reply #5 on: August 16, 2015, 09:26:10 am »
Updated current cravings.
Ready to commit to one or two partners.

Offline SagittaTopic starter

Re: Harry Potter and Other Stuff (F looking for M)
« Reply #6 on: November 27, 2020, 10:33:01 pm »
Well, it has been a minute.
Let's try this again. Back and looking for roleplays. Plots etc updated.

Offline SagittaTopic starter

Re: Harry Potter, Magic, and Other Stuff (F looking for M)
« Reply #7 on: December 27, 2020, 10:08:58 pm »
Available for a couple of moderate-paced (replies in 3-5 days) games. :)

Offline SagittaTopic starter

Re: Pick Your Poison (F looking for M)
« Reply #8 on: March 02, 2021, 10:47:38 am »
Giving this a prod. Trying a new approach.