Topic: Keith's Musings

[Keith]

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⮚Greetings and salutations!
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If my ideas grab your attention I ask that you at least scan through my Particulars and that if they don't, you are free to drop a story idea into my PM box.

My interests run from Light to Extreme with a decent chunk of my threads being in NC. I'm open to modifications or entirely separate ideas, although I can only say that I will listen, my muse and interest will determine if I pick them up. If my ideas seem vague it is because they are ideas that popped into my head and seemed interesting, I'm looking for a partner to expand upon or modify the ideas to fit our collective liking.

I add and delete stories periodically, so if the first thing you see doesn't catch your interest, please keep scrolling down. I'm always open to modify stories, so they interest both myself and my prospective partners, and I view my prompts as basic ideas to work off of. That said, I would like to stick with the general themes and wouldn't enjoy modifying them so much the basic bones of the prompts are gone.

PS: Please only reply by PM, not in this thread.

[Keith]

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⮚Stranger In A Strange World
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The almost universal opinion of the human race is that their... eccentricities, are due to their environment. Despite living on a world where everything from plants, animals, and even weather are all lethal threats, they were so resilient that their population expanded even in the harshest environments. They are seen as bold, curious, oddly drawn to creatures that would feast upon them, known to enjoy dangers that could easily maim or kill them, even imbibing poison as a way to relax and unwind, and have such an amazing ability to regenerate that if something non-critical is detached from their body there is a chance that simply reattaching it will lead it to eventually regaining its function. In the perception of the rest of the universe, they are the unlikely, bizarrely tough, and successful natives of a Death World.

When they were first discovered, the human race was space faring in only the most primitive sense, sending out probes and occasionally visiting their moon. The greater galaxy was a little shy about landing on such a dangerous world, so initial communication was tentative and via remote. Humans proved so eager to meet them that several nations sent volunteers to space in small shuttles that were not even capable of landing, after their initial brief exchange the humans happily piled back into a small shuttles that proceeded to nearly burn up in the atmosphere and crash into the ocean, only slowed by a gigantic parachute for the last few minutes!

There was no exchange of technology, it was not believed that granting such a thing to an unprepared race was wise, and as most of the universe tended to be cautious the cultural exchanges were also very limited. At most diplomats from all sides would communicate occasionally, making for a rather dry plodding relationship, and over time humans began to lose interest with the process. The change came when stlll inspired humans began to construct their own small shuttles and would launch themselves into space with barely enough fuel, food, and water to reach a space station that had been maneuvered into their solar system.

It was stunning to find the first human wandering through their space station, but not as stunning as the discovery that many humans had miscalculated, and ghost craft were found drifting thousands of miles past the station, which didn't seem to dissuade others from trying soon after!

Once moving among them, the alien races discovered humans were useful and comforting to have around. They would become fiercely loyal to certain aliens they spent even small amounts of time with, the first such case being a young engineer who rushed to stop an electrical fire that had trapped an alien female in a section of the station that had quickly dwindling oxygen, and with limited tools on hand, burned himself terribly in the successful effort to free the alien he  had only eaten meals with occasionally.

One of the humans that succeeded in reaching the station was a young man named Marco Maxence, who had split his expertise between his love of animals and technology, who had constructed a private and relatively primitive shuttle that he launched at the space station. He had been rescued by a passing spaceship when it became clear that he had run out of fuel and was low on oxygen, and guided into the station's landing bay. The

aliens

he became attached to were that same small crew, who he found out were rare mineral seeking geologists, and saying that he wanted to repay the debt of having his life he invited himself on board.

The aliens found that he didn't take up a lot of space, ate relatively little compared to themselves, and that it was easy to teach him new technology and chores, but that it was awkward to interact with him as they were not diplomats or biologists and could not read his emotions. They decided to ask him to accept nanites, which they explained would enhance his regeneration and make improvements in the efficiency of his body's natural energy consumption, increasing his stamina, and explained the real reason they wished to give them to him. The proposal was to give him attachments that would translate his mood, in the appearance of canine features in the human's view, artificial but indistinguishable from the real things, that would better allow them to understand his mood with simpler and more overt body language.

Marco found the idea amusing, and seemingly unconcerned about having microscopic alien machines running around inside his body, accepted by boldly requesting the injection. He then needed to explain that human medicines were given by needle, which he had to further explain as a hollow metal spike used to pierce skin and inject liquid into their veins. The concept horrified them so thoroughly that two of the three alien crew left the room looking paler than usual, and the crews' medic was left to explain that Macro just needed to put a fingertip in what appeared to be a vial of silver liquid. It was explained to him that the nanites would enter through the "outer membrane" of his finger painlessly and replicate to the appropriate level. As the liquid seemed to be absorbed by his finger, he was told they could also be used for automatic translation, given a little time for the networked intelligence to learn.

The human adapted effortlessly to the new appendages, though he did occasionally complain about being "so easy to read" at any given time, which confused the rest of the crew because that had been the entire point. He traveled with the crew to half a dozen planets over the course of a year, as he marked time, and proved to be an invaluable scout for them, even if it was terrifying each time they had to tell him he couldn't bring back some fuzzy monster he become attached to.

One such trip did not go as intended, a critical fuel leak was sprung by a pea sized asteroid while the entire crew was asleep, and by the time the crew had registered the miscalculation in fuel consumption they were already at the point that they would be forced to land for fuel.


Phew, that was a lot of set up, so now let's discuss how I'd like to have fun with Marco.

Marco and his alien crew will be forced down onto a previously undiscovered world, one where the residents are anthropomorphic and have a technological level similar to that of humans in our current age, with a functioning and diverse modern society of predators and herbivores living together. Once he has made sure his crew made it through the emergency intact, he will venture out into this interesting new world fearlessly. He could attempt to blend in, or perhaps the government or locals quickly discover the down craft, and he is immediately greeted. Whatever the case may be, I intend for him to find a guide and companion that he would become interested in and eventually attached to.

Now that I've gotten to the crux of what I'm after, I suspect I'll lose most potential interest as I intend to go in a direction that may not be popular. As my mind began to combine ideas and concepts I had been inspired by, and toying with, I got interested in combining the idea of humans being impressive because of the dangers and temperature extremes they lived with and other unique quirks, and to throw that character into a world where he is entirely new and alien, into a world some may be

familiar with

Judy Hopps,

from the movie Zooptopia.

.

[Keith]

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⮚Last Resort for Repressed Needs
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A Roleplay of Mistaken Identity, Dub-con, Pregnancy Scare, and Incest.

Her husband's sex drive shrank year by year, making her feeling increasingly empty in a marriage that left her alone at home for the vast majority of the week, and it was leaving her unsatisfied and despairing. The problem was exasperated by her son barely talking to her, as he seemed to be struggling with something at school, and he too was feeling as if she was withdrawing from her, leaving her even more alone.

She was worried that her husband stopped making love to her because she let herself go, he was always uncomfortable talking about sex and preferred just to get to it, so she received very little feedback. Hopeful to attract him again, she increased her workouts considerably before working up the courage to propose a deal to her husband.

Every night at eight o'clock she would go to bed in lingerie, or naked, blindfolded, or even self-bound to the headboard, laying on her stomach with a pillow under her hips, propping up her buttocks. She would make herself available to him in that way every night and in exchange, she would never complain as her husband simply used her for his own satisfaction after a hard day's work.

Most nights, she would nudge the blindfold up and simply read romance novels as she waited and hoped to be mounted, growing increasingly comfortable with the idea. Every once in a while it even worked, and though it typically left her sexually unsatisfied, it was better than nothing. They had been married for nearly twenty years, and for a couple to say they have intercourse on a nightly basis after being married that long is almost unheard of, which is why she was content in the new arrangement.

Unfortunately, sometimes being in a routine makes you oblivious to the sudden changes. Sometimes being complacent can be worse.


The story would start with a case of mistaken identity, how long that remains the case is up to discussion. I would like to see the mistaken identity go on for a few nights, perhaps spread out over the course of weeks. I think with the seemingly renewed sexual interest of her partner she'd eventually suggest a new, compromising, position, or perhaps in a mistake of passion, her blindfold is brushed off. Maybe it's something as simple as her having a moment of clarity and realizing the differences between her husband and her son.

While this is a lot of structure for the story, there is a lot of room to change details. Is the husband simply someone with a low sex drive, or is he having an affair? Do they live in a large home in a rich neighborhood, or are they barely above the poverty line in a two bedroom home? How does she react when she finally discovers who's been deliciously mounting her hasn't been her husband?

I could go a couple of ways with the son, depending on the area the family lives in, but at the end of the day, he's depressed, and it's getting worse rapidly. He has been bullied and violence is a factor, he's losing hope, he's hurting, and he's not willing to talk about it. One night, on his way to bed, he went to say goodnight through the crack of his parent's bedroom door, only to be greeted with the sight of his mother lounging naked on the bed. He discovered the nightly routine, and when he has hit a brand-new low, his restraint cracks, and he mounts his blindfolded mother. ^{One element of build up could be the inclusion of Somnophilia.}

The story ongoing would involve their guilt, the mother's need to feel cared for and the intimacy of sex, and the son maturing quickly as he sees not only what he needs from her but what she has been missing for years.

While this is a lot of structure for the story already set up there is a lot of room to change details, and I'm open to discussion. This could be a one-shot romp or a long term story that goes through the drama of taboo and repressed needs.

[Keith]

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⮚Otherworldly Summoning
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Darrell Ó Coileáin appeared to be a normal guy, with not especially outstanding about him. His looks were slightly below average, with an above average physique, a decent head on his shoulders, and a noticeable Irish accent that he just couldn't kick. Accent aside there was nothing outstanding or remarkable about him until he went to the mall to pick out some clothes.

For some reason just stepping into the two-story building gave him a chill. It didn't matter how many people he passed, or how noisy the crowd was, something just felt distinctive off. A sudden blue glow snapped to life with an audible hiss and he looked down, seeing strangle lines shifting and morphing into odd unfamiliar shapes under his foot, and his life was changed forever. The summoning magic not only steals people from other realities, in the transfer of existence power is granted to them by benevolent beings between worlds seeking to compensate those stolen from their previous lives.

[Scenario #1] The magical circle under his feet yanks him violently out of his reality and he is tossed into a high fantasy world by one of its great powers, seeking a hero to save them from some great plight. This will be a flexible idea. He could be sought genuinely for his help, or he could find himself under the authority of a manipulative or tyrannical power that intends to use him for entirely self-centered reasons. If he sees through the schemes or goes along with them naively is up to us to decide.

[Scenario #2 The magic symbol is far larger than the previous scenario, and dozens of people are caught up in it. At the outer edge, he is affected by it, but at the last second, he steps away, rejecting the forceful summoning while still gaining something from it. The only one who knows anything about the sudden abduction of a massive amount of people he is put under considerable scrutiny, but with no evidence, he is deemed a victim and released to his everyday life, with the added benefit of power unheard of in his world.

Intro Post

Darrell Ó Coileáin was a fairly normal young man with nothing especially outstanding about him. His looks would be considered about average, dark brown eyes, brown hair, well proportioned and masculine face that wasn't good or bad enough to make him stand out His physique was a little above average as years of sports had kept him in good shape. Reasonably good at studying he was told he had a good head on his shoulders. The only thing that stuck out about him at all was the noticeable Irish accent that he just couldn't help coloring his words. Accent aside there was nothing outstanding or remarkable about him until he went to the mall.

He had driven his parent's spare car and had to park all the way in the outermost parking spot. Completing the average image of he was wearing a white t-shirt, blue jeans, and sturdy looking shoes. The mall, he noted, was absolutely packed to the brim with people. The only spot available felt like a mile from the large glass doors. Not wanting to waste time he jogged tot he entrance and was just starting to warm up when he reached the door.

A chill washed over him as the glass doors slid open. For a moment he thought it was the AC hitting him but once he stepped inside it didn't feel particularly cold. Unable to pinpoint the cause for the phenomenon he dismissed it with a shrug and started shopping. He had been recruited onto the practice squad for the Bears, his college baseball team, and felt motivated to get some of his own gear. Going through the sporting goods he tried out a few gloves and settled on mat black Louisville Slugger.

After the boredom of waiting in line, he paid for both items and stuffed the receipt into his pocket. On his way back out of the mall, he stopped in the bathroom, wanting to splash some water on his face. He still felt a tingling tension at the back of his neck, the unpleasant tension of something fundamentally wrong was about to happen. The second the bathroom door swung closed the lights dimmed and he froze in place.

A sudden blue glow snapped to life with an audible hiss and he looked down, seeing strangle lines shifting and morphing into odd unfamiliar shapes under his foot. The lines pulsed up toward him he blinked his eyes, trying to regain his sight as darkness swallowed him. Adrenaline surged through him as he found himself falling, his flailing arms finding nothing to catch himself on he simply tumbled helplessly through the void.

Sharp pain speared through both of his shoulders and his legs snapped straight suddenly as a massive something caught him by the shoulders and stopped his decent in a violent jerk. A hoarse scream tore out of him as massive talons dug into him, piercing muscle and hooking under bone to ensure he was properly caught. His sense of time distorted as the pain consumed his every thought, his blood slick hands prying weakly at the smooth talons until he was abruptly released. All at once light returned and he crashed face-first into the most peaceful looking field he had ever seen outside of museum art and internet pictures.

Clutching at his shoulders he rolled onto his back and stared up the bright blue sky. Even though the pain he was grateful to see it as it offered a small sense of normality. "Ah recall askin' ye to be gentle." A charming female voice called out in complaint, growing louder with each word as she approached. A woman with dark red hair and soft green eyes leaned over him, mild concern creasing her brow. "Don't ye worry none," She urged as she crouched down, tapping him lightly on the forehead with a dainty fingertip. Warmth rolled through his whole body and the pain vanished within moments.

Darrel popped up off the grass and stood, his eyes sweeping the scenery. A large grove of trees surrounded the large picturesque field, but apart from the woman and an impossibly large raven, there were no distinguishing features to hint at his location. "Where, am I?" He asked, wiping his bloody hands off on the once white shirt before he prodded at his shoulders, finding only smooth skin where once there were ragged holes. The answer came from the raven that was just abruptly not. The giant shiny black feather bird shrank into the figure of a naked woman with black hair that seemed to absorb sunlight. "Tír na nÓg," The once-crow's voice was sharp and cold, her expression distinctly put-off.

"I'm in... Irish heaven?" He just couldn't keep up with any of these, too much weird shit hitting him at once. "Feck, I'm dead aren't I." Then his eyes snapped to the black-haired woman as a bone-chilling thought came to him. "Oh shite, yer The Morrigan." His grandfather was the only one in the family who held to the old religion, but he had made two very firm points that stuck with him. One was that the Tuatha Dé Danann, the old gods, were mostly alright but to make no deals from their fairy servants. Second, and most importantly, was to not insult The Morrigan.

"Don't you worry, the rough landing was by necessity." The redhead walked toward him and lined herself up with Morrigan. "I'm Brigid, and I'm sorry we had to meet like this young Ó Coileáin." It was strange to hear his name pronounced perfectly, years of listening to people butcher it felt worth it to have her speak it so smoothly.

"Thank ye, thank ye both!" He hurriedly shot out thanks, just because he didn't want to have either of them angry at him.

"Your fate has been severed, Ó Coileáin. You have been stolen from me. I am greatly displeased." The Morrigan's eyes burned with rage, wisps of dark smoke licked off her nude figure, and he suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

"I know she can be frightenin' but she's angry for ye, not at ye. We did not call ye here, yer not dead, someone has rather literally stolen ye." Brigid supplied and he found he could breath again as her warm aura counteracted the dark wisps of smoke.

"How can I be stolen, I'm standing right here." The weight of the situation was still stifling him but for the moment he felt safe, right up until it sounded as though he would be snatched away again. It was more frightening than death when those two were standing an arm's length away, their presence at once intimidating and deeply comforting.

"I am delaying yer theft, sadly, it cannot be stopped." Seemingly calming her anger after it frightened him Morrigan was no longer utterly terrifying, but her mere presence was still intimidating. "This will not go unanswered. I will teach ye how to punish the thieves in my place."

"An' I'll teach ye how to keep all yer bits together while doin' it." Brigid said with a bright smile, a smile that teased him for centuries.

Darrell Ó Coileáin woke to the sound of gasps, his steel blue eyes blearily scanning his surroundings. Cloaked figures encircled him as he sat with his back against the skill of a massive deer, it's bleached white bones and antlers jutting dangerously behind him. Underneath him was soft sand that shifted quietly as his legs stretched out, a roaring yawn rolling out of him. Spots of red gradually formed in the sand and the scent of blood drifted up to his nose. "That was thoughtful of you." He complimented a figure in his imagination, the visage giving off a dark protective presence. Though he wanted to search for the figures name in his muddled memory he had no time.

"What is this? He is no demon, what went wrong?" A voice cried out angrily while Darrel looked up. He was in a large cave with an opening directly overhead, letting in a shaft of light that didn't reach the edge of the sand. Panic swept through the cloaked figures as he stood, dusting sand off jeans that had faded from blue to white. He felt no discrepancy with the change, something about it just made sense. Reaching behind him he picked up the Louisville Slugger he remembered just purchasing and gripped it tightly.

"Demon or not it should still obey us, command it to reveal it's power so we can view it's worth!" The man nearest him shouted this out, spittle flew from his lips in his crazed efforts to control the small group that was quickly losing control of itself.  "Kind of pointless considering what comes next though." He commented to himself as he stepped off the sand, his bare feet scrapped by the cave's rough floor. One of them was shouting out a command like there was an unruly dog nearby, but it was hard to make out through the vicious crack that rang out as his bat smashed the skull of the nearest thief.

"You stole me!" Darrel's voice ripped from his throat viciously, his eyes wide and insane with rage he barely even remembered the reason for. Centuries of daily training, bloodthirsty ancient combat beat into him until it was ingrained in his bones, and every time he thought to give up he heard a voice reminding him, "They stole you from me!" His bat was pristine when he had lifted it off the sand, but half a dozen pained screams and vicious cracks had turned it into a gory mess. It hadn't mattered what knives they brandished, or the projectiles that hissed toward him, he beat them down one by one without mercy, giving up flesh to crush bone.


The cave system he was brought to was smaller then he expected, little more than one downward tunnel that ended in the larger section where the ceiling had been dug out for sunlight. A series of holes had been dug into the natural tunnel and in each was a bed, a few provisions, and water. It seemed the people he dubbed thieves had their own little den. Searching for useful supplies he snatched up some food and flasks of water, carrying them in his shirt until he reached the last room. By far the largest and with the most provisions.

Finding the only things worth taking he gathered everything on the floor. A dozen dried fruits, four hard bread, two wine-skins, two flasks of water, and a long dark red robe that would cover up the blood on his white clothes. Looking around for something to carry it with he found a rugged leather satchel. He was surprised to find that the satchel didn't just carry some of what he had taken, he stuffed it all in with room to spare. Other than growing heavy there seemed to be no outward change. Out of curiosity, he shoved the bat inside and it miraculously vanished into it.

Darrel found it strange that he didn't question the phenomenon. He simply slung the satchel over his shoulder and trekked out of the cave wearing a dead thieves red robes. A long walk winding through the woods ahead of him he considered how he had reacted to everything so simply. He woke up and instinctively knew the people who surrounded him needed to die and had acted on it. He felt no guilt, none of that gut-wrenching nausea that he heard about when it came to taking a life. Images of a thousand battles flickered through his mind and gradually an image formed. Words repeated over and over again rose to the surface. He had been stolen, he would be given skills to punish and survive.

"I have plenty of time." He convinced himself, smiling at the sight of civilization ahead. Exiting the thick threes grove of trees he was greeted by large Gothic stone walls and a large dirt road that leads to it. I'm really going to miss music. Heaving a sigh he jogged out onto the road and kept going until he was stopped just outside the gate. A large imposing soldier stood with one hand on his weapon and the other jutting out in the universal stop sign, weary tension clear in his every movement. "Halt cultist, you're kind aren't welcome here!

"This just ain't my day." He sighed, shoulders slumping, the satchel sliding toward the ground.

[Keith]

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⮚Parallel Worlds
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A mysterious and decrepit looking building, no different from the others that went unused due to a shift in the economy. A building that looked as though it had stood up to the nuclear blast better than the others, spawning horror stories for miles around and superstition that it was a den of supernatural evil. An odd and unnatural structure that no one had seen the likes of in their lives, the locals thinking it was a sign that the gods had descended to visit miracles or horrors upon them. The structure looks different depending on its surroundings, but it is always mostly intact, looks abandoned, and is filled to the brim with incomprehensible graffiti.

[Scenario #1] A survivor of the nuclear apocalypse takes shelter for the night in the most structurally sound looking building around. He has lived with small groups, traveled through trading posts that survived by theft and brutality, and was finally surviving on his own. He fought and evaded marauders, bandits, the feral, the evil of the world going through a dark age. When he woke to the sounds of horns, he thought for a long time he was hallucinating. Running from the building, thinking something inside was affecting his mind, only to find he was in the midst of a city that was untouched by the bomb, the EMP and the fallout that followed ensured the country ended. No ID, no money, no idea if he was going to be pulled back, he did what came naturally to him. He stole food, ammunition, and on his way back to the building that had brought him to the treasure trove, he also took an unwilling companion.

[Scenario #2] They had just been drinking and were heading home when they spotted the odd building, and a series of dares lead to them entering the building. Inside was weird graffiti, scents they couldn't identify, paper with equally odd messages strewn around. The building began shaking like there was an earthquake and those dared ran out as fast as possible, but when they burst through the doors the sights and sounds were entirely alien. The landscape was covered in moss, trees, heavy uncut grass, vines snaked in and out of windows, and a stiff wind howling its way through the suddenly aged buildings was the only sound. Where were they, and would they ever get back?

This is open to a lot of different angles, but I expect that nice places are going to be rare, with adventure, dangers, and the fight for survival. How will they survive, what will they have to do to stay fed, who will they interact with, will they see people they recognize? In a universe where travel between dimensions seems to be as simple as stepping into the wrong building, anything is possible, but it usually gravitates toward worlds with a great number of similarities. Start in an apocalypse, and one will likely happen soon. Paranoia is healthy when there is no guarantee the building will return to shelter you from a nuclear bomb or a zombie outbreak.

I have played this scenario twice and unfortunately, both are on hiatus. I will link them below with a brief synopsis.
Between Worlds: A pair of college students went out drinking with friends and acquaintances. The pair had only spent a little time together, a psych project their freshmen year, and the girl was not comfortable with him. Unfortunately, after seeing their inebriated friends off, they discovered there were no more rides to be had. He offered to walk her back to campus, and she reluctantly agreed, leading them to be swept off to another world.

The story had heavy themes of sexuality and humiliation and was going to continue with those themes. Each world they went to saw societal norms being significantly different from the world they left.
Cycling Chaos: This story followed the outline of the first scenario. A man who had survived apocalyptic conditions had found shelter in one of the few sturdy buildings in a sea of collapsed skyscrapers in a barren wasteland. When he discovered that the area outside the tower had drastically changed, he searched for supplies he could make use of to survive. He found that despite having one of the most advanced pieces of technology he'd ever heard of the society was small and shrinking, he would not stay.

In the process of stocking up the tower, he found a unique life form, who he later discovered developed the amazing technology, and kidnapped her. They quickly developed a rapport and were in the process of surviving their second world, a nuclear ice age, when the story entered hiatus.

This story mechanic opens up a lot of possibilities, adventurous and tantalizing, horrifying and beautiful. If any of this inspired you, feel free to send a PM.