I approach RP a little differently that most. Everyone's got story's and plots all laid out with character names and twists and turns planned. That doesn't sound like much fun to me... I write erotica when I'm bored on 3rd shift, and I'm looking more for a co-author to a story than some back and forth when I already know what's going to happen and how it's gonna happen.
I write long posts, I love luscious descriptions and relish realism. Plot and struggle are very important in my stories. I read quite a lot on the side too, which really helps any writer. It's kinda like picking up a book, you can view a few random pages and see the cover and title but you've got no clue where or what the book's really about until you get into it. I want to play/read/write a fun story. So this is where it really gets different. Instead of I'm Jack you're Jill lets go fetch a pale of water, its more like "Hi, I'm Jack and wow this hill and pale of water sucks. Whoa, what's that over there! let's go check it out...!" and Jack and Jill wander off into the deep dark forest searching for something interesting.
Point is, I prefer to create a story with someone. My partner, the Heroine protagonist, attempts to overcome some struggle vs. nature, vs. monsters, vs. society, vs herself (corruption) etc. That's what we agree upon, the basic struggle and basic setting, and from that I play the antagonist placing obstacles in our heroines way. We both create and maintain the setting and other supporting characters in the story. The purpose is to NOT know where it's going, instead taking clues and hints from your partner about where it wants to go next.
THAT being said (and hopefully understood) As I said I do write in my free time and when I hit a dry spell (pun intended) I like to RP to get my creative juices flowing. I love sci-fi stuff, I'm not much at all for standard run of the mill vanilla sex, partners, and people. I have no problem with it in the story and a good romance side plot really adds to the complexity, but that's it, side plot. I have a very large tool box of tricks I can put to use in a story, but I get most of my ideas from what you have as O/O's. I primarily prefer a good story first, but monster, demon, sci-fi, beastial, insect, ovipositor, eggs, larva, non-con etc are the things that really get me interested in a story. The odd stuff you don't normally see.
I work 3rd 5 days a week so posts are pretty easy for me to get out. I CANT STAND writing a post and waiting a week for a short response. ACTIVE PARTNERS ONLY. My imagination is too active and letting me stew for a week isn't nice. I don't have a post requirement or anything, I just want you to be as interested in the story as I am.
Here's an excerpt from ch11 of the story I just finished. (Granted RP's are a little different)
She watched him drag the ancient desk into view just short of her. His eyes glazed over and she knew why. The tiny box enveloped his being with the same commanding voice Kelly had heard in her dream that night. Tom was losing himself in the dark. She had felt him before, felt his darkness. It was a part of him, something he dabbled in, but now it filled his soul like a sock puppet. He steadied himself against the desk as the last bits of Tom Chambers evaporated. Kelly understood now. She knew what it was, what it wanted. It was the darkest pits of human potential and malevolence. It moved through the world and the hearts of men fluid like shadow, but it wanted more. She had denied it thus far; left it with no choice but to posses and manifest itself in a puppet like Tom. She understood the creatures too, why they did what they did. It wanted life.
She thought she was in danger before, but now the room was changing. It appeared to be the same bleak nothingness, but she was on It's turf now. The picture she drew for Candace had locked It's realm out, but it was becoming real around her, unchained. Kelly had power, rather it lacked power in her reality, but the world she knew was slipping away giving way to the void where she was helpless. She was that luminosity Darkness needed to survive, to contrast; it would feed off of her pain and grow strong. She gave it power through fear and suffering, enough power to come into this world once she was overcome.
Kelly's mind reeled as she broke her nails against the impossible knot of the rope around her neck. She had to fight; the alternative was a fate worse than death. Tom's eyes blinked; black pits of inhuman loathing locked onto her helpless figure studying her futile struggles like a curious insect. She lifted her shoes off the floor and double kicked the creature sending him to the ground. Her shoes grappled at the desktop and slid against the slick surface unable to get any traction until she kicked off to swung back hoping for a better hold. Her face was deep purple as she caught the second time. Carefully standing on the desktop she coughed her first strong breath into her chest. Tom's body rose by puppet strings. The slip knot could loosen with the slack and she almost had it off when a hand wrapped around her leg just above the knee. It was impossible, fingers weren't that long, they wrapped around her whole thigh. Her heart stopped and she looked down slowly and unbelieving.
Black shadow fingers in the dark looped around her leg and pulled her closer with impossible strength until the rope strained her neck again. Like a child working a square peg into a round hole, It learned the stumbling human puppet and released her. She dangled like a hangman clamoring for the desk while it reached out with an over long shadow arm and took the rope. Kelly caught the desk and took another breath before the rope went tight stringing her up again. She dangled freely in the air kicking wildly hoping to land another blow. The rope pulled higher until her head bumped the rafters. The tension in the rope spun her around to see the smudged window. The old Tom had done that, and she was thankful. Her eyes stayed on the sunlight as she feared the world would fade away entirely as her vision narrowed. He cut the rope and she fell back onto the desk like a sack of potatoes coughing air into her lungs.
She looked over at it. The creature was black food coloring, a squid’s ink, dripped into the air. It didn't move; it swam. The rope wrenched her head over the side of the desk and left her peering into the nothingness. She couldn't see the window anymore, only the dark depths of the room. Her hands clutched at the rope when Darkness washed over her, hugging her body intimately preventing any escape. The first person she had ever been close to was Candace. When they shared a bed their bodies and spirit intertwined to become one of comfort and compassion. This things inky presence pressed against her body like the embodiment of dread. It stole all the happiness and joy from her heart. She had never felt such panic. She didn’t cry, couldn’t, she could only breathe, gasping as it ripped at her clothes and tore at her soul begging to be let in.