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Author Topic: Things Wyatt Just Might...hey, it almost rhymes  (Read 1706 times)

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Offline WyattTopic starter

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Things Wyatt Just Might...hey, it almost rhymes
« on: May 30, 2017, 12:42:24 AM »
My O/O’s are linked in my signature and recently updated, please take a look there before looking here and do not reply in this thread.

Fandom play - Generally something I avoid, but I would consider stories based on the The Magicians (TV show version) world, primarily with a focus on earthly magic and hedge witches.  Canon characters could be NPCs, with non-canon PCs as our characters.

I had a long time standing offer to play with someone playing Jessica jones from the Netflix series, that offer still stands, but never seems to attract attention.  Still a possibility, but considered lukewarm at this point.
« Last Edit: April 12, 2020, 10:34:20 PM by Wyatt »

Offline WyattTopic starter

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Re: Things Wyatt Won't Do...Except He Might
« Reply #1 on: September 28, 2017, 01:17:35 PM »
It Takes Three -  Not looking at the moment.

Stories of infidelity, swinging, cuckold or cuckquean, lots of possible elements.  For certain tales I would want a trad story with two other writers taking main roles along with my own, for others it might concentrate on MC and YC with one of us playing the illicit lovers.  I adore stories of ladies guided into infidelity by their lovers, perhaps with distance separating the two main characters or even death itself, perhaps both.  Forbidden fruit and taboos galore, or maybe just one or two kinks that are satisfied.  I prefer character development and layered emotions to be part of the story, no matter how much sex is involved.  Leaving this idea very open ended to allow a potential partner plenty of room to offer ideas.
« Last Edit: April 12, 2020, 10:34:56 PM by Wyatt »

Offline WyattTopic starter

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Re: Things Wyatt Just Might...hey, it almsot rhymes
« Reply #2 on: July 14, 2019, 09:02:00 PM »
Current Cravings

Never Judge A Beauty By Her Cover - Looking for a romance between my male character and your trans female or Futa character.  Something with sexiness, romance, not a trap, whatever the hell that term is supposed to mean, but to me and my character, a surprise that the beautiful lady he is pursuing is in fact pre-op Trans bottom or simply born that way.  Willing to consider lots of possibilities, but I don't want to make a huge kink out of the trans or intersexed nature of YC.  Make no mistake, it is an important factor to both characters, and there would be sexiness and newness and romance that rules over all.  Maybe it is a fantasy world, maybe quite gritty.  MC always thought of himself as straight as an arrow, but he never thought of her and the vast spectrum of possibilities between the classic genders.  Would also be willing to play with a hermaphrodite character opposite my own if that interests a potential partner as an alternative.  In play currently with playfulchick76


Under Discussion - An Unintended Indecent Proposal – Based very loosely as a take off of the 90” movie, Indecent Proposal, mixed with a bit of Pretty Woman and some darker themes of corruption and obsession, possibly balanced with some humor and two evolving life's.  The simple version is that MC mistakes YC for an Escort, a reasonable mistake given the reputation of the club or bar in which they meet.  He (MC) is there intending to find a woman to share the night and possibly the weekend with him, but the lady (YC) has no idea what would possess this man to make such an incredulous offer, until she glances more closely at the place she sought refuge from her life within and realizes who he thinks she is, and what he believes her chosen profession entails.  She isn’t that, in fact, even had he just been there trying to seduce a lovely woman it would be wrong, for her at least.

YC has a reason that makes this forbidden passion for her, yet the man and the money offered are both enough to make her at least play along for a time.  She could be married, affianced, perhaps a nun having a moment of doubt (that one would have to be a convincing take on my partner’s part), or some other reason that his offer is not just worth a one night stand and a bit of flexible morality and the thrill of playing at being a call-girl.  It is that and more for her, by more I mean there is more of something she break and betray if she takes him up on this.  He doesn’t need to know, really, no one would find out, the story is one of temptation and corruption for her…and if she succumbs, perhaps an obsession that develops for him.  The kind of obsession that makes once into twice and his demands and desires more extravagant and wanton and dangerous each time.

Okay, enough of one possible line of thought.  You hopefully get the idea and I am happy to entertain different takes on this central theme of forbidden fruit and naughty by nature temptation.  I am willing, but not as enthused (unless the idea offer enthuses me, which it might) about this being F-F, instead of M-F, and would happily play with the roles reversed (my character being F to your M, or my M character being the accidental gigolo).  I see the character who knows what they are doing as novice at this as well, in other words, the first time, he, or possibly she, has ever sought out the favors of a professional escort.

Main offs here are large differences in age (I play plenty of those already, thanks) and race play as the forbidden issue (though an interracial coupling is happily accepted, just not the main taboo), and it makes no sense for incest to be the taboo either. 

Main ons would be a writer and character able to play through the various emotions, temptations and corruption/guilt that are part of the nature of this RP theme.  Someone who can flirt and talk, chat and not decide yes, no or otherwise to the unexpected offer right away.  A fantasy story with realism, heart and grit.  I have no set plot versus sex ratio (hate that), it should simply make sense, and kinks are very much negotiable.  Can be played in the forums (longer posts, farther apart) or via Discord (shorter, but not short posts, more often), Discord preferred for this story’s chatty, seductive nature.

PM me if interested, or just to chat, I love that too!

« Last Edit: April 12, 2020, 10:35:59 PM by Wyatt »

Offline WyattTopic starter

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Re: Things Wyatt Just Might...hey, it almsot rhymes
« Reply #3 on: September 07, 2019, 09:56:20 PM »
Characters That Need To Tell A Story - Generally characters created for group or solo games that never got off the ground, but that I enjoy and would love to adapt to a new setting and plot.  I am open to adapting the character to work with your ideas, freeform only, no system games please.

Currently All Taken

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
-Rayne-

Name:  Arianna Kavitian (Ka-vee-shan)

Nickname(s):  Rayne, no one calls her Arianna anymore

True Age: 70

Apparent Age: 34

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Situational, which is another way of saying bisexual with no particular leanings

Species: Werewolf

Height: 5’7”

Weight:  129 lbs

Physical Description: Rayne possesses a medium complexion that darkens in the summer, soft brown eyes and a thick brown mane she keeps a little longer than shoulder length of late.  Full lips and a fuller figure give her a look that is less than her actual age, of course, but older than the age at which she was infected and turned.  She will dress for the occasion, raised with money and status she despised, Rayne knows when to glam it up, and how, but is more at home in jeans, boots and a T-shirt with open flannel shirt atop it, or even camouflage pants and muted tops when she is hunting in human form.  In summer her look tends more towards cut-off jeans that were more popular in her past, with a tank top and hiking shoes or flip flops.  Jewelry comes and goes with the need for it, or lack thereof, though she is never found in any form without Elspeth’s Opal and Onyx ring on her right ring finger.

The best description of Rayne is that of an earthy beauty, with eyes that have seen too much, and a classic hour glass, screen siren of the fifties body that draws men’s eyes and attentions away from her eyes, often to their own eternal detriment.

Distinguishing Marks:  A jagged, circular scar on her upper left chest, front and back, with a sprinkling of tiny scars around the larger one in the front

Face Claim: Hayley Atwell

Personality Description:  Rayne can be gruff and seem hard to some, a woman who despises the weak and moreover detests any who believe her to be weak of vulnerable.  She has a deeply passionate heart, but getting her to show and share that is not something someone can easily do unless they are a child or an elder wolf.  Her soul is scarred over, the best description she can come up with for it, and makes her wary and cautious to say the least.  Honesty, oft times blunt, is a trademark of her being, not really giving a shit what others think about how she chooses to live her life and brazenly aware that some bear powerful animus towards her for past acts and her current avoidance of, and disregard for, the life, hierarchy and traditions of any and all packs.  A female alpha and lone wolf.

History:

The private club was classy, stuffy, the smell of old money inherent in its décor and clientele.  Everyone knew everyone else that was a member, power was rampant, deals brokered, fortunes made and lost, and most of all, no one saw anything, at least not if you ever asked them about it.  Rayne sat across from a lawyer with an amusing name of Allen Everheart, amusing for a human to wear such a surname with any surety that his heart would make it home any day or night still within his chest, though most claimed the wild days of the rising were behind them now.  If everyone truly believed that, then the heavily built and armed men standing ten feet to Mr. Everheart’s left and right would not be packing pure silver rounds in their Glocks, the silver ammo just close enough to Rayne that it caused her nose to be annoyingly itchy.

He, the lawyer, was dressed for the part and Rayne wore a classic va-va-voom gown, her hair up and makeup full, with glistening red lips and smoky eyes that looked appraisingly across the table at her adversary for the evening.  Everheart read her a set of instructions, causing Rayne’s fists to tighten almost painfully with stress and hard boiled hatred, the hair on her arms standing up as it did when she was upset and uncomfortable, with the miserable old bastard, her Father Nicolai, still pulling the strings from wherever he was moldering in the family mausoleum.

“Do you understand the instructions and conditions of your inheritance as I have explained them, so far?” he asked with annoying precision to his words and the use of them.

“So far,” Rayne replied coolly, her voice naturally throaty and deep, “I understand the meaning of ‘so far’, it means I jump through these hoops and then you pull out a few more at the end, no worries, I would expect no less of him, alive or dead.  I tell you my story, my way, and that is it?  We both know damn well that he can’t hear a bit of this and that as much as I tried to hide away from him, his eyes and ears always found a way to follow me, so this is my confession then, my plea for his forgiveness…or simply proof that I lived down to his expectations as spectacularly as he always believed I would?” she asked, but knew questions were useless, save for rhetorical value, coming from her side of the table.

“The instructions are as they are, the motivation of a client is always their own, and not my concern or business.  My duty is simply to execute the parameters of Mr. Kavatian’s Last Will and Testament, to…the…letter.”

Rayne smiled, not a happy smile, but the man wasn’t weak or spineless, and that, at least, was making the night a tiny bit less odious than it otherwise was.  She picked up her drink and drained the smooth strong amber fluid down her throat and ordered another with a mere wave of her hand, service being quick, efficient and silent here.

“Fine,” she grumbled, but obeyed the rules of the game and began her tale.

“Elspeth and I were born on the same day four years apart, birthday twins we called ourselves, though she and I could not have been more opposite if we tried, and sometimes we did.  Tall, perfect posture, lean and feminine in that willowy, graceful way she had, with pale skin like fresh cream and red hair that matched Mother’s in color and straightness, everything about her was brilliant.  She was beautiful like a porcelain doll, with emerald green eyes I would have killed…figuratively…to possess, book smart, poised, witty and with a way about her that everyone adored and loved, especially Daddy, of course.”

She took a cigar from the humidor on the table, cut and lit it before continuing, blowing the smoke up and away, for now, since Everheart was not being more of a walking, talking dick than his profession required,

“I was the baby of the family, inherited dear old Dad’s looks, or more accurately, I am told, those of his mother, my Grandmother Harta, whom he pretty much fucking hated simply because she remarried and found happiness when her husband died, and so, when she died before my third birthday, I became the repository for all of his goddamned Mommy issues.  I was smartassed, sassy, irreverent and didn’t give a rat’s tiny ass of what anyone other than Elspeth thought of me.  She was attending Vassar, I was in high school smoking cigarettes on the sly, raiding the wine cellar and liquor cabinet, getting laid and not really giving a fuck who gave the fuck, as long as they gave it good, hard and deep,” Rayne shrugged and clearly did not give one, two or three shits what Everheart thought of her story, even as he scribed it down in overly neat and orderly handwriting.

“So, this was the ‘60’s, getting to the parts you want to hear, and Daddy had connections to the old country and those translated here to America.  The fucking Italians thought they were secretive with their La Cosa Nostra, while the entire time my old man was in league with Nosferatu.  They were hidden at that time, moving behind the scenes in some cases, and beneath the radar in all.  Daddy kept them supplied with human blood and the humans that it came from, harder in those days thanks to the war in Vietnam and the Civil Rights movement, but he always adapted with the times, made his undead associates happy as pigs and they made him rich as fuck…and to seal the deal, he arranged for Elspeth to marry a Prince or something ridiculous like that, the vamps from the old country still valued titles and nobility, whatever,” she shrugged again, the motion more dismissive and hateful than any shrug ever could be it seemed, and those emotions aimed directly at her Father’s memory far more that at Mr. Everheart.

“She was claimed and turned months before the wedding itself, I remember her telling me that is was her duty and honor to connect the families, our line and theirs…and he was good looking, in her way, not mine, but I knew when Elspeth said duty she meant it.  I did what my ‘id’ itched to do, ignoring duty and protocol, each and every day of the week, and I got away with it only because she served as the old fucker’s perfect child,  She was the embodiment of the woman he married himself, and like our Mother, Elspeth was ever loyal and self-sacrificing for what he wanted and needed…but then came the wedding day, the curtains and shutters at the Estate all drawn to keep the vamps happy and acting brave even as they hid away from the sun and the world both back then.  She married him, kissed him with the most perfunctory kiss, tossed me her bouquet in that ridiculous bridesmaid outfit I wore…and walked straight out the door, head held high, posture regal and perfect as always…and burned to a goddamned fucking crisp without ever once screaming out from the pain,” the words and tears each spilled from Rayne then and she didn’t care, not about the tears, not about much after her heart was torn out that day, “She had done her duty, she was no longer his to rule over and obey, and in that moment she chose her own fate, so I guess I should fucking drink to that, right?”

Rayne emptied her glass, the bourbon not dimming or even taking the edge off of the pain, there was not enough bourbon in the world to do that.  It took a few moments to gather herself, and she did, continuing with Everheart being polite enough not to try and comfort her, perhaps smart enough not to as well,

“So, two years later, I turned twenty, ’69 was the year, about to become ’70, and he started taking about another fucking family we needed to connect with.  Times were changing, they weren’t happy about Elspeth…about her manner of ending of the first marriage, and despite his ever low expectations and opinions of me, which I gladly fulfilled at every turn, I was going to be the next offering for the good of the family.  Mom was a goddamned walking zombie after El died, there was really no family left except for the one that lived in his imagination and arrogant pride.  He kept track of the weres in our area, they would take him out for his ties to the vamps if they could, so we lived in a fortress by then.  I used his intel to find a place to sneak out to, a bar where the biggest, baddest wolves congregated.  They were bikers, cliché, but it fits the pack lifestyle, and their women were out on a run into Mexico to sell guns and buy dope and I sauntered in, teased them into a fight for me between the  alpha and his rivals, then fucked the winner all…night…long, scratched and clawed him too, slapped his face and pulled his hair and gave him a night like he never knew before, and in return, he gave me what I wanted…the bite, the virus, not just any, but from a snarling, nasty, hot alpha,” she said with a glint in her eye that was both dangerous and sensual at once.

Dinner was served, but she ignored it as did Everheart,

“Just my luck, the alpha bitch and her girls came back the next day.  I was still there, he wouldn’t let them kill m.  No attachment, he just hoped he could fuck me again someday, but they bet the snot out of me from one end of the bar to the other and back again, then dumped my mostly broken ass on the lawn outside the Estate as a message to Daddy…always comes back to him, does it not…and when he found me, I had just enough life and energy in me to raise two fists and a matching middle finger on each of them in my salute to him.  Then the explosion, when the bullet is coming at you that close you can see the powder and gases explode out of the barrel.  Maybe he missed on purpose, more likely he couldn’t bring to shoot his daughter in the face and was shy about a tit shot, so it hit me above the heart.  Through and through, his .357 was too powerful up close to not rip through me.”

“The scar?” Everheart interjected and with no compunction Rayne moved the fabric of her dress aside to show the vicious reminder of the vicious beast of a man she once called Father.

“The powder grains picked up some of the silver, hence the freckles around it, powder-burn from the shot.  I should have died anyway, I was almost dead before the shot, and bleeding out as I passed out.  He left me there and someone…the virus wasn’t advanced enough to heal me a damn bit yet…someone came up, opened a vein and bade me to drink.  Vamp blood, I couldn’t tell whose, and didn’t care.  It would make me puke now, but then it saved me…I will give Daddy some credit though, because when I somehow made it back to the bar the next day, the bitches that whomped on me were dead as doornails, silver .357 headshots courtesy of the old man.  After that I moved from pack to pack, some lycan, some just humans pretending to be wolves in their own way, ran guns, but never dope, worked in more than my share of titty bars when I needed money and ran hot and wild, embraced the lifestyle of a white trash were to the fucking fullest, did some things I needed to do, for the good of the pack…”

“Murders?” Everheart inquired, asking a question he knew the truth of before he asked it.

“Men murder, wolves hunt,” Rayne shot back defiantly, then shrugged again, though one still haunted her, “Dead is dead, and they stay that way if you do it right, and I did.  Then the revolution or evolution, whatever the hell the press called it came along, and I had my fill of pack life.  Spent the last fifteen years in Montana near a shifter colony and a native tribe, decent enough folks.  Learned to hunt as a human, live off the land in any form, appreciate nature and my own nature, found my peace, and then your little legal notice in the local paper found me, but he knew where I was the entire time.  I only fooled myself, never him, thinking I escaped, thinking I did what Elspeth did right, and what I did like the worthless POS he always said I was…end of story.”

He nodded, then spoke,

“The vampire who saved you that night, do you know who…?”

“No,” Rayne shot back all too defensively, always remembering like a fevered dream, real or illusion she didn’t know, but remembering the sight, sound and scent, that unmistakable scent of Elspeth, opening her veins up to feed Rayne the life giving and saving power of her own enhanced blood.  It was real, Elspeth was alive, used the gypsy magic Harta taught her when Rayna was too young to learn it…or at least that was the desperate hope and surreal fantasy Rayne’s soul and being clung to as truth, when it might well be nothing more than the sad, pathetic dreams of a little sister who lost the only person she ever truly loved, the one whose ring she wore and looked at in a dead giveaway of the truth of the answer she did not give.

Eyes turning back to Everheart, Rayne had one truth she was all too happy to scathingly share,

“You know why he never had himself turned, never became immortal?  Because he never loved El or me, hated his Mom, but loved his wife with all of his heart.  When she died, he knew someday he had to, thinking it was the only way he could be with her again…and I just hope she is up in heaven getting laid with regularity and having a great old time, as his rotten soul burns forever in the pit.”

Everheart almost grinned at that when Rayne did as well, but he kept himself in order,

“Two final conditions, first, you must never join or seek to join a pack of your kind.”

Rayne shrugged and laughed at that, “I am a true alpha, not just an alpha female, I am about as popular and sought after in a pack as a guy with a three inch long limp dick is on the set of a porno…or do you prefer a more appropriate analogy, Mr. Everheart?”

He shook his head, “No, that will do.  The other condition is that you move back to Rochelle, New York, live among society again, stop hiding from it.  The $250,000 is $50,000 in unconditional cash and $200,000 to be used for education or to start a legitimate business, perhaps both.  My office will handle the final legalities…and if you happen to see her, if she still truly exists, as the notice you replied to stated, Elspeth is the heir of the very considerable remaining Estate, which will stay in trust for the next 200 years.”

Rayne stood up, leaving the cigar burning in the ashtray and her steak untouched, offered her hand politely and shook his when offered,

“I wouldn’t know anything about that or why he did it.  Elspeth died fifty years ago, and all of his antics and money can never absolve him of that sin.  It couldn’t in life, and he will never rest easy in death.  The hoops are jumped through, you have my bank account information, and I was thinking of moving to Rochelle anyway, my grandmother is buried there, and more importantly, he is not.  Good day, Mr. Everheart.”
« Last Edit: February 23, 2020, 03:34:17 PM by Wyatt »

Offline WyattTopic starter

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Re: Things Wyatt Just Might...hey, it almsot rhymes
« Reply #4 on: February 23, 2020, 03:36:40 PM »
Updated, cleaned up some thing, removed something old, added something new, that kind of thing.  As noted above, reply via PM, not here, with any interest or comments.  PM just to chat, friendly chat and tossing around ideas is always desired.

Offline WyattTopic starter

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Re: Things Wyatt Just Might...hey, it almsot rhymes
« Reply #5 on: April 12, 2020, 06:29:31 PM »
Added - An Unintended Indecent Proposal as a craving.