Cloaked in Darkness {Fantasy - Van to NC - M/F}
Being written with Cecilia.For Daria survival is precarious. Something you never take for granted. As a street rat she’s learned how to forage and make due, how to judge people quickly, and how to take risks. She barely ekes out a living, returning every night to the slums, fighting for everything she’s ever had in life. Or she did, until she met (insert character name here). For him assassination is an art, and he prides himself on being the best. Daria takes the biggest risk she could, apprenticing herself to (insert name), and starting a new life she had never dared dream of. However, (Insert name) has a secret, one that could destroy the life Daria is just starting to build for herself. In a world of dangerous politics and strange magic will she learn to survive, or will her new Master be the death of her.
I’m looking for a male assassin. I’m not completely sure what his secret will be, but I have a few ideas, it’s something we can discuss before starting the rp and is of course my partner’s decision. He can be kind or cruel, either way she will stay with him for the position it grants her and the new life he’s given her. Could be a love story, or not, PM me to discuss.
If you are interested in reading the story so far you can find it
here.
Held Upon a Note {Fantasy - Van to EX - M/F}
Being written with Geraint.Bard or whore, to some there is only a tiny difference, if one at all. Brandise loved music. It was a language all its own that she lost herself in time and time again. She could pick up any instrument and learn it in a matter of days. Songs fell easily from her lips. By all rights she should have been singing before Kings and Princes, but that wasn’t the life she led. Born to a whore in the lower districts she struggled for every penny, playing on street corners for coppers and pins no matter how bitter the weather happened to be. Even that was a life she could be proud of, but there was no place for a bard when the darkness fell. No place for song. There were only four choices then. Fight, die, whore or pray. This is the story of a whore’s bastard daughter and how she saved a Kingdom, and stole the heart of one of the most powerful men the world had ever known.
I'm looking for someone to play the male character. My only requirement is that he be a powerful man. Duke, prince, king, priest... anything you'd like.
If you are interested in reading the story so far you can find it
here.
Unmasked Being written with GeraintGenre: Modern Fiction
Seeking: Male Character
Plot Content: Angst, Healing, Interpersonal and Emotional Conflict
Sexual Content: M/f, Open to Negotiation, BDSM/BondageShe was bold, adventurous, fearless. In short, she was everything in that moment that she usually lacked. She felt beautiful and desirable, but more importantly she felt alive. The mask gave her the courage to be wanton. She wasn’t skinny little Elizabeth who liked to curl up and read bad romance novels and spent her nights alone. She was someone else, someone who reveled in the dark look in a man’s eyes and the soft growl that seemed to echo through the hotel room.
They’d met only a week before. A chance encounter in a grocery store. She’d been in yoga pants a size too large for her and a sweatshirt on which the Nike logo was barely visible. She’d been cradling a pint of chocolate chip ice cream feeling sorry for herself when he’d interrupted her maudlin thoughts. He complimented her on her eyes, her hair… made her feel both embarrassed and beautiful as they stood with their carts on the frozen food isle. Silly, but she didn’t care. Not anymore.
“Do you like the thought that someone could be watching you through that window, Beth?” he asked, his voice low and demanding.
She felt her cheeks heat as she glanced out the window and them back towards him. For a moment she felt like hiding and she caught herself as her arms curved inwards in an attempt to cover herself, but something in his gaze stopped her. Perhaps it was the desire she saw there, the proof that he found her beautiful when so many others had overlooked her in the past. For that one moment, with the mask on, she almost saw what he did. Could almost believe that she was that beautiful.
“Yes…” her voice trembled slightly as she bit her bottom lip.
“Come here, my beautiful girl…”
There was no hesitation in her this time, and she went to him with a smile curving her lips.
If you are interested in reading the story so far you can find it
here.
Of Mist and Tears Being written with FormlessGenre: Fantasy, Historical Fantasy
Seeking: 
Plot Content: Adventure, Good vs. Evil, Conflict, Intrigue
Sexual Content: Any Pairing, Open to Negotiation, Light - EXShe was enveloped in a fine mist, beads of water formed on the blade of her sword. They trembled there as she held it aloft, poised as her body strained to maintain the position. The roar of the waterfalls drowned out the even, steady rhythm of her breath, but she could feel it in every beat of her heart. The world had narrowed down to her blade and body, the first little more than an extension of the other. Sorrow and fear were non-existent. There was only peace.
It wouldn’t last. She knew that, but still she stood there with her body starting to tremble, the tip of her blade wavering ever so slightly in the air as drops of water ran down the blade. Peace never lasted. That was why she’d chosen to take up the sword, though in truth she’d always been drawn to the more martial pursuits. Her father had fought against the idea at first, but she’d seen the pride shining in his eyes the last time she’d gone home.
Home…
A touch of sorrow tainted the peace as thoughts of home filled her so carefully emptied mind. Anger followed close on its heels. Visions of blood and fire, things that had been described to her when the last caravan came through with the dreaded news. She had not realized it, but in her mind her father had always been invincible, her mother a constant that would always be there. Her brothers and sisters might have grown up and left to start their own families, but her parents… the thought of them dead…
She told herself that the moisture on her cheeks was from the mist, but when she licked her lips and tasted the salt of tears she knew it to be a lie. They were gone, and her siblings were elsewhere. She was the only one left. Alone.
If you are interested in reading the story so far you can find it
here.
Awakening Being Written with BAMF.
Genre: Urban/Modern Fantasy
Seeking: ??
Plot Content: Intrigue, Horror, Mystery, Darker Themes
Sexual Content: Any pairing, Open to Negotiation, NC - ExShe had been certain that she would never wake again, as it was with most of her kind. She had thought herself buried deeply enough not to be disturbed for all of time, but she had been wrong…
The first thing to return was her sense of taste as her mouth flooded with the coppery sweetness of blood. It was a small sip of heaven as she felt her wasted body shudder, sensation returning to her skin as it registered that she was damp, in a pool perhaps. She had a sense of floating, her legs and arms almost weightless in their frailty.
She didn’t breathe, but simply parted her lips further and sunk down into the pool of blood, the rich, decadent liquid sliding down her throat without any effort on her part. She was as weak as a kitten, barely able to move, but that began to change almost immediately. Warmth infused her pallid flesh, the white of her skin flushing with a touch of color even though it couldn’t be seen beneath the rippling surface of blood.
She couldn’t have said how long she lay there before she finally managed to open her eyes. Harsh, unnatural light blinded her before she could take in the room in which she found herself and she caught herself as she started to flinch. Weakness had been beaten out of her when she was but newly born to the night, and she quickly realized that her flesh did not burn. She was sheltered from the sun, though she could feel it beyond the walls, pressing in upon her as if it sought the remains of her tattered and blighted soul.
“She wakes…”
“I didn’t think it would work, what do we do now?”
She turned slowly in the direction of the voices, her midnight eyes unblinking as she sat up and blood ran down her skin. She was still too thin, her ribs showing, but with each moment that passed she filled out more.
“Where am I?” her voice was a rasp, broken and unfamiliar to her ears.
If you are interested in reading the story so far you can find it
here.
Shadowbound Being Written with That One Guy. Genre: Fantasy
Seeking: ??
Plot Content: Intrigue, Horror, Darker Themes, Politics
Sexual Content: Any pairing, Open to Negotiation, Light - ExDaughter of Darkness. Shadowbound. Soul Eater. She’d been called all of those things over the years. Whatever name the people chose to give her did not matter in the end. They were right, every last one of them. What they didn’t want to admit, however, was that they needed her as much as they feared her. Well, perhaps not her specifically, but those like her. The necromantic arts had ever been frowned upon. Those who consorted with the dead were considered aberrations. No one ever stopped to wonder what kept the dead from overthrowing the living. If they had they would have thanked her.
She’d made the choice long ago to avoid humans, which she no longer considered herself to be. It was a choice that many of her kind made, though not all. So she moved thorough the shadowed streets with nothing but the light of the half hidden moon to guide her. She didn’t know what city she found herself in and she didn’t care. There was a job to do here. Something that needed to be done, and she had been called to do it. Whatever it might be.
The tug of necromantic energy was a physical thing for her. It seemed to pull at her bones, tugging her towards the docks if the smell of fish and salt water was any indication. The pressure had been building for weeks as she trudged across a countryside laden with snow until it was a sharp ache within her very bones. An ache she could no longer ignore.
Her clouded blue eyes followed the path laid out before her looking for any sign of what had brought her here, her senses heightened to the point of being almost too sensitive as every creak and scrape reached her ears, almost deafening.
The pendant she wore beneath her threadbare cloak began to heat against her skin moments before the scent of blood reached her. She could taste it, coppery and cloying against the back of her tongue with each breath she took. Something had happened in this unnamed city. Something that she was meant to fix, or finish… it was just a matter of figuring out which one it would be.
If you are interested in reading the story so far you can find it
here.