As, I am certain, we all want you - Yes, you, specifically - in our collective pants.
Were one to know the nom de guerre that I held during my last tenure here, one could likely salvage from the blackened depths of historia a post very similar to this one - A notice describing several possible storylines (or scenarios, if you prefer) for roleplay; a particularly clever cutter could likely filch that post from the dark, but for sake of ease I have fabricated for the benefit of the more genteel readers a suitable replacement.
By no means is anything here-in written in stone. Except for the character I would be employing. That, isn't so much up for debate. In the ever-living words of Rorschach, "Never compromise." Except, you know... for the other stuff.
Perhaps an extremist totalitarian fatalist isn't the best reference for this instance, but we love him anyway.
This will be subject to change - As I am certain anyone's would be, as the whim of inspiration and my dulcet muse purrs huskily to my ear. Naturally, I am always open to outside suggestions, so feel no fear in offering them.
Interested parties should probably inspect my magical profile for contact information or send me a PM.
Included, for your enjoyment, a list - In no particular order.
Imagine your average big, buff, busty heroine, out in the world scrounging up arcane artifacts and wondrous ancient treasures, with no more armor than a chain-mail bikini and a sword sizable enough to be considered a war crime by merely being adjacent to it. Such a profession suggests having aid handy, for all that it is, after all, a dangerous and lonely occupation. In this instance, such aid is the diminutive Faerie Dragon, whom she comes across and convinces along; ensue madcap adventure, general hi-jinks and-or shenanigans, sexual deviancy, and various arcane artifacts with questionable purposes. The main draw of this particular Sl is the considerable variety that is possible - Various quests, any number of quirky effects from the aforementioned magical items found, guest characters, et cetera.
The Second Word War - Remembered by many as the last great war. Everyone knows of and respects the countless tales of heroism, courage, and service, of innumerable soldiers pushing themselves beyond the threshold, throwing themselves heedlessly in danger's path to protect their brothers-in-arms. But some stories will never see the light of day. No one will know of the secret battles waged between the Axis and Allies. No one would believe the tales of Normandy veterans tearing massive spheres of flame from the empty air with their naked hands, and hurtling these contained explosions into the coastline bunkers; No one would presume the spectacular failure of Market Garden to the telepathic influence of one enemy intelligence officer; Nor of the monstrous wolf that talked on two legs terrorizing front-line troops, and the heroic battle raged betwixt it and one lonely sergeant armed with no more than a silver knife. Brutish mechanized men, hideous experimentations to meld animal and human, black sorceries and arcane rituals, archaic relics and artifacts imbued with sorcerous powers - These are no more than mere works of fiction.
Or, are they?
Devastating weaponry needs to be powered - Particularly when they are devised by a mixture of magic and science; Few Earth-bound materials could possibly hope to keep up with such an output. Thus, the Reich secretly commissioned Project: Dragon's Flame - Its sole intent to locate and mass-produce an 'alternative' power source for their terrible weapon. Natural and existing power sources were tried, at first, of course - Usually with destructive results. A few of the black mages of the Reich considered another venue - But their mortal shells were too feeble to keep the massive construction powered for long, and in short order they withered to worn husks. This last worked, though - Not long enough, of course, but the idea was sparked. The flow of magics through the mages rapidly killed them, but what if something were located that did not simply pull magic to it, but was of magic, had it in its essence?
This would be where Glitter (grumpily) enters the scene - A precious and unique and vital commodity for the Axis, and something that needed to be kept hidden and safe by the Allies. Semantics and particulars of the play are more than negotiable, but the general scene is very liable to be long-term and complex.
One would not expect a large pride of anthromorphic lionesses to be headed by anything quite as contrary as a diminutive Faerie Dragon - Yet just such a strange set of circumstances have caused just such to pass. A wanderlust-held Glitter had had intention for just venturing through the savannah, but upon observing the brutal treatment that the lord of this pride inflicts upon his charges, how could any right-minded creature not intervene in some fashion? Strength, however, is not his forte - Stealth, however, is.
Sneaking his way into the den after the slovenly brute dropped off into slumber, it's a fairly simplistic ordeal to drag the wicked hooks of his across the beast's throat, effectively ending its life. The death throes do not go unnoticed, of course, and Glitter finds himself between a rock and a large number of larger, predatory female creatures... All of whom are decidedly, and surprisingly, appreciative of the intervention.
This storyline obviously has necessity of a person playing more than a few big, buff, and busty anthro's of the leo persuasion; it is intended to be a longterm storyline dealing with my little runty getting accustomed with his new position, dealing with any strife and drama in the pride, fending off any external threats to his charges, and, of course, lots of multi-person pr0n
Dragons, of course, tend to be highly-regarded beings - Great and terrible and majestic creatures that can sow benevolence or reap devastation. It is not terribly surprising that some religious organizations may crop up that devote themselves to placating the beasts, or, at least, deities that look extremely similar to Draconian creatures.
In this particular event, the runt of a Dragon has unknowingly stepped into such a locale as holds in esteemed, reverential worship a diety that is Dragon in design; the so-called primitive civilization immediately hails the diminnutive wyrm as a god-made-flesh, and promptly set about proper worship and placation for a tiny Dragon who has not a damn clue as to how to properly act godly - but who decides to milk the situation for all it is worth. You know you would.
Particulars negotiable, as ever.
Magic is potent, powerful, and dangerous - That is why it is laborously studied and carefully taught at organized, certified academies (and the occasional reclusive sorcerer's tower or barren citadel or other grim and unpopulated locale.) Of course, even these highly cautious institutes are not without accidents, both minimal and magnificent.
A student of the magely arts is studying spell-crafts of a summoning nature - She likely was not aware of how simple it is to cast the spell, when she went through the motions of doing so in an unattended location as practice. This might be why it is such a surprise when she inadvertently pulls a Dragon through the aether and binds it to herself.
Space - It is large and, compared to its sheer and unapologetic vastness, is mostly empty. One of the myriad planets that did happen to be inhabited when first probed was found to be home to surprisingly intelligent and rather innocuous, even endearing reptilian creatures. The empires that be, of course, insisted the planet to be a protected one - Only scientific envoys were allowed, to harmlessly study the creatures.
Naturally, the protected state meant a black market instantly cropped up. The admirable efforts of the imperial navies kept it down, of course, but despite the best of efforts some were still stolen away. The defensive plumes that the small drakes breathed possessed a powerful drug-like effect - Useful in coercion, robberies, kidnappings, and other sordid affairs. More than a few planet-spanning corporations would dearly love to get their grubby hands on such specimens.
How this rolls could be done in a number of ways - A drake liberated from a pirating vessel by an imperial scout ship, an attempted smuggling through a vital political and military installation, an innocent merchant unknowingly contracted to deliver one, some thing that has not been fabricated yet...