USER: - Artsy

SEEKING? - I'm willing to be contacted. Not exactly sure if I want to jump into a roleplay yet, since I still feel a bit new.

OPEN TO CRITIQUE? - Yes. Definite yes.

PROMPT-CODE: Character prompt A, OC, Female

SAMPLE IS AS FOLLOWS:

You are the princess/prince of a small country. You deeply love your country and are willing to do very nearly anything for it - even at the expense of your own wishes and desires...

Zhong-Guo is a strong country. You could fit more than three hundred Ilha Formosa's in it, and it still wouldn't be enough. However, Zhong-Guo's lands are mostly countrysides and deserts. Most of its economic and military might was located on the eastern side of the giant nation. Unluckily, Formosa is the closest Eastern neighbor to Zhong, and Zhong has turned it's greedy eyes to conquering it. This is also probably because Formosans speak the same languages as Zhong-Guo(as their ancestors had migrated over the strait long ago) and that they share the same ancestors. However, Formosa refused to give in. They were a proud people and didn't like the way the government of Zhong treated it's own subjects. If they let Zhong-Guo take over, it would mean an end to freedom and their happiness.
Luckily, the other nations, those that are not all too threatened by Zhong, threatened to come to Formosa's aid should Zhong attack her. That was a promise made by the great country Mae-Guo.
However, while Zhong-Guo cannot directly attack Ilha Formosa, it did everything in it power to isolate it, politically and economically. Ilha struck back by working it's hardest to make connections based on business, but it wasn't enough.

Mulan squinted her eyes as she pulled out a silk hankerchief. "Why do they have to bully us so?" she muttered angrily ",if the situation was reversed, you wouldn't see Formosa trying to hurt Zhong." She used the handkerchief to polish the sword that she had been hiding under her bed. The blade gleamed under her care. It had a jade dragon flying across the middle of the blade. A decoration for luck, but this sword was more than a decorative sword. It was forged for her dearly beloved uncle, the former King of Formosa, who died in the last conflict between the Formosa and Zhong-Guo. Her father, who was the second prince, did not take the responsibility of the throne well, as he never expected his stronger elder brother to die and leave the throne vacant. Her father was brought up to serve as a helper to his brother, his King, not to actually take the throne himself. His grief was felt throughout the country and it demoraled the people. Zhong-Guo was forging more political ties into Formosa. Worming into their weaknesses. Who knows how many spies were already in the palace?

Mulan finished polishing the sword, and took delicate care in tying the red tassel. Of course, the sword wasn't supposed to be with her. It was supposed to be with her younger brother, the crown prince, but she had managed to take it away from him easily. He was but a child, of only nine years. His interests laid in his studies, which was good, since he would need knowledge when he grows old enough for the throne. Mulan reminisced on how, when her brother was a smaller child and had time to play, he would come up with her and go 'hey, guess what? Guess what I learned today!" and then spout off a list of annoying facts about whatever he had been learning. Mulan used to hate it when he did that, but now she missed it. Her brother has grown more distant and so has her mother. Her mother dotes on her little brother, but she also loved Mulan. Just not with the same strength that her little brother is loved with.

Mulan is the eldest, the crown princesss. As a princess, she would normally be expected to marry the crown prince of another country. A marriage that would strengthen the diplomatic, military or economic ties with another nation. However, thanks to Formosa's political isolation, there is no country other than Zhong-Guo that is willing to open up to a marriage contract. When Mulan was a child, her father had opened up talks to marry her into Zhong-Guo's royal family, the Zhong.

However, they only agreed to let her marry the second prince. The second! It was a direct insult and her father closed negotiations. Now Mulan was just destined to remain single. She couldn't marry anyone of lower ranking, and there was no royals in the world that would take her. At least, none that were approved by her father's council. When she had been more rebellious, Mulan had asked her father to let her become the country's first Queen regent, but her father refused. The people would not like it and other countries would look down on this, he had said.

So Mulan mainly spent her time outside of the court. It was tiring and tortuous to remain there, in the ladies' circle. There, the only thing noble ladies really talked about were 'who's betrothed to whom, who was the hottest young noble, who was the richest available bacheler, who was wearing what, scandalous affairs, new clothes, what their fathers just did' and so on. Mulan used to be interested in them. Interested in fashion, in the young noblemen, and what was happening around the court. But then she fell in love.

A famous swordsman had traveled from Zhong-Guo to meet her father. During the meeting, as entertainment, the swordsman showed off a few sword dances. Mulan was present at the time was was entranced with it. She was angry, that Zhong-Guo has such a fine military and that they probably had thousands more swordsmen as good as this one. But she was also hyptnotized by the beauty of the blade, the deadliness of it, the strength and precision needed to weild it.
"I want to be able to do that" she had thought. So she acted on that whim. She went to her little brother, who had her uncle's sword. He lent it to her but warned her to take care of it. She wore her brother's combat clothes, which was dusty from not being used(ever) and at least five sizes too small. What was supposed to come at his ankle, only barely reached her mid-calf and what reached his wrists, only reached her elbow. Thankfully, Mulan was thin enough for the shirt to barely fit around her torso.

She took the sword and practiced swinging with it in her private garden. The sword went out of control with every swing. Her arms and upper body was pulled along whenever the sword lunged. But she was learning how to use it. Instinctively, she practiced her grip and while her swings were still wild, she was no longer pulled along with the sword. While Mulan had thought that she was doing fine, a nearby watcher had not. She heard laughter and turned around with the sword raised. "Who are you!" she demanded. A man in the outfit of a palace night-guard stepped up, his face slightly grinning. "Tong-Li, a night-guard, your majesty," he said, before bowing.
"..And what were you doing in my garden?" Mulan asked.
"I was patrolling, and I couldn't help but noticed your practice and decided to watch."
"You didn't make your presence known and I checked for the night patrol, you are a fake!" she charged at the man with her sword, intending to cut him down. Despite his kneeling postion, the man quickly brought out a sword to defend Mulan's strike. Mulan was stunned by his speed. Their swords met with a clang. The man slowly rose up until he was standing and looked down at Mulan with a gaze of a cat playing with a tiny mouse. He seemed to be completely at ease.
"..who are you really?"
"And if I choose to not answer?"
"Then I demand it with the authority that is rightly held by the Crown Princess. Now answer me, commoner!" Mulan spat angrily.
"Fine. I'm a thief. You see that jade orchid over there? Well, say good-bye to it, princess. This is the last time you're going to see it."
Mulan flushed. That orchid was a gift from the palace gardener! And it was a lovely addition to her garden too! She glared at the man, who stared back cooly.
"Why is a man of your skill...resorting to being a petty thief?" she asked.
"Well, that flower is almost one-of-a-kind. I'm actually here because I already have a buyer lined up for it." he said.
"So you rob for money?" she removed her sword from his and backed off two steps, but she still held the sword in his direction.
"Of course I rob for money. What else is worth it?" he laughed at her ", besides a pretty girl like you, of course. Maybe I'll steal you away too."
"You can try," she said, taking in her intruder ", but you will be cut."
"Ahaha...ok then," he sheathed his sword and turned away. "In that case, I'll just be grabbing this flower and be gone." Mulan couldn't help but notice that his sword was very high quality. Stolen, probably. But he was strong. He had to be cunning and quite too, to get this far into the palace. There were things to be learned from this man. The thief picked out the orchid.
"Wait!" Mulan said in a hushed but urgent tone.
"..what?" said the thief. He looked like he wanted to leave.
"I can pay you," she said.
"..what?! For your own flower?" he replied in an incredulous voice. Then his face appeared thoughtful. "Well, sure then, if your price is high enou--"
"No. I don't want the stupid flower, you can have it," Mulan interjected ",what I want is lessons. Sword lessons. And I can pay very well." Without waiting for his reply, she ran into her compartment, to her drawers, which had her jewelbox. She hastily grabbed a necklace in the dark and ran back out to her garden.
The thief was still there. She held out the necklace and he came closer to take it. In the moonlight, Mulan could now see that it was a turquoise and gold necklace. It would hurt to lose it, but she had plenty of other necklaces to use.
The stranger whistled quietly. "This is more costly than the flower," he said, more or less to himself. He turned to her while stuffing the necklace down his shirt. "I'll be accepting this. But only a bribe to come here again. To pay for my lessons," he said ",you'll have to give me ten necklaces."
While Mulan was a very sheltered princess, she knew what things were worth and when she was being taken advantaged of.
"No," she said ",this is payment for tomorrow's lesson. I will give you a piece of jewelry for every lesson. Good-bye now." Mulan left without looking for an answer from the man.

He will be here tonight, she thought, sitting on her private veranda, a thief hungers for money. He will be back for more wealth. She waited by the candlelight. The night patrol has already checked on her area and had left a while ago. She has already used up two candles while waiting, and this was her third one. A rustle of leaves came as someone arrived from her left side. Mulan smiled.

This is just an entry to show how Mulan's private training began. I would have her later run away to join the army and then being sent to Zhong-Guo as a representative and on and on.
Edit: oh man, its been a while since I rp'd. The mulan story is based on the story concept that I thought up a while ago, but now its finally coming into fruition. Maybe I should start roleplaying again. To better my writing skills. Or to just unleash whatever imaginative juice I have. :DDD I'm sorta pleased with myself, for coming up with such a detailed entry. Never thought that I had it in me.

USER: Wavi

SEEKING ROLEPLAYS: Can contact via PM.

OPEN TO CRITIQUE: Yes. Feel free to rip it to pieces.

PROMPT-CODE: J1e

SAMPLE IS AS FOLLOWS:

"Code Red. I repeat, Code Red."

The speakers lit up with an electronic sounding voice that played the same message incessantly. As the place was in shambles due to the alarming call, one man looked far too out of place. His black lenses veiled his eyes and his matching black fringe accented his pasty-white skin tone. Pale lips were drawn tight as he swept past the chaos that had erupted in the office.

Making his way to the elevator, the agent removed his shades to reveal closed lids. As the elevator door clicked open, a pair of taunting red eyes flicked open. The fist of the man slammed into the wall as the other one punched A1.

Just as the doors were beginning to close, the room lit up. The sounds that echoed down the elevator shaft reminded the male of fireworks.

“Agent Soul Reaper reporting in. Mission completed.” His tone dripped with delight. It was evident that killing people came easy to this agent.

Despite what most would think, he had calculated the blast radius of the C4 to ensure that his ride down to ground level would be flawless. Although, the scent of burning flesh still managed to trail down to his nostrils. Most would have turned away in disgust or, perhaps, even vomited. But this man? He just stood there with a cocky smirk on his slender face.

When the doors finally slid open, he slipped from them and picked his way through the rubble. He was in search of his ride – a sleek, black bike. Eyes finally fixing on its location, he reached his right hand to his right ear. There, wrapped around his ear, was an ear-bud that transmitted his voice (and location) to his headquarters.

“Looks like I’m clocking out early today, boys.”

Lips falling in on one another, he dug his gloved hands into his slim pockets to retrieve a small cylindrical tube of lip balm. Applying with such grace, he continued his way to the bike before he mounted it. Engaging the key, he rode into the golden sunset that was just starting to kiss the earth goodnight.

Not wearing a helmet, his hair rippled in the great gusts of wind that zoomed past his head. Shades back in place, they seemed to reflect the ever-setting sun that so rudely tried to blind him. It was almost a picturesque moment. Black leather, black bike, black hair, and, of course, black shades. Everything about him was dark. Even the silhouette his body cast on the ground looked almost demonic. Some rumored that his shadow came equipped with horns. Although, there was no reasoning behind this phenomenon, people knew it to be true. He was, without a doubt, a demon among men.

With the city in ruins due to his handy work, the agent was heading home. The ride was quite and long, but it was just what he needed -- to get away from it all.

As his eyes landed on the small cottage that drew nearer, a smile crested his face. For the first time in a long time, he wore a smile on his face. It was a rare sight to see, or at least that’s what people say.

“You’re home,” her voice sent a shiver down his spine.

Pulling the sunglasses from his face, the six-foot two-inch male punched out his kickstand before he sauntered over to the woman.

Her tantalizing sapphire eyes locked with his. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered into his chest. Wrapping her hands around his zipper, she found herself tonguing the male’s bare chest. Chin resting on the valley between his tight pecks, the blonde-haired woman titled her head up. Hoping to catch his lips with hers, she let a playful smirk dance on her face, which mimicked the seductive look that glistened in her eyes.

For years, he had waited for this moment. Ever since he could remember, he wanted to feel her lips against his, again. Again and again. All he wanted was to run away with her and to put his past behind him. However, he knew such a thing wasn’t possible. Not now. Not yet.

“I’ve missed you, too.” Biting her lower lip, his crimson eyes hinted at his heart’s true sorrow.

“Rroy.”

“Aleu.”

She turned her head away to hide a shed tear from him. In that same moment, he turned his head away also to hide teary eyes from the woman before him. With both glancing away from the other, the male by the name of Rroy Skytun took the woman’s hands into his own. Lightly pulling her in, Rroy wrapped his arm around her body. They nestled just right, falling perfectly into her every curve.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Aleu Black said through gritted teeth.

His job had gotten the best of him, and she knew it. He was a killer. A cold-hearted killer. Rroy had signed his life away to serve these people. He was an agent. But, more specifically, an assassin, which was the one thing kept their love from blossoming. It was also the only thing that kept him from proposing to her.

He had tried to escape that life, but found he couldn’t. He had sworn on his life that he could stay until he completed his last mission. A mission that would, without a doubt, bring about his own demise.

At the very beginning of his term, he whispered to the devil that he would do anything to become the most powerful man in the world. The devil told him to join the agency Rroy is currently employed at. He then told Rroy that ultimate power could only be achieved if he did the one thing the devil wanted the most. So what did the devil want? Why, he wanted to stay in power. To do that, he needed his daughter slain. The only thing standing between Rroy and his desire of true power was one woman. One innocent little girl who knew nothing of this promise. This pact between the devil and Rroy.

As you’ve probably figured out, the woman Rroy was sent to kill was no one other than the woman he loved the most. Aleu Black. She was his target. The one reason why he couldn’t fulfill the devil’s mission. The one and only reason he was stuck in a rut. She was this problem and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Well, he could, but he would forever lose the love his life.

How was he going to break her heart this time? He wasn’t certain. He knew what he needed to do and for the past twenty-three years of his life, Rroy couldn’t succumb to killing Aleu. However, things were looking bleak for him these days. The organization was going under. In no time, he would be without a job. No job meant that his mind wouldn’t be kept busy. Meaning, he would think of her.

Pulling Aleu close to his chest, Rroy’s trembling hands fingered the slender blade that he had strapped to his wrist. His left hand snaked up her neck as his lips collided with hers.

Tongue to tongue, mouth to mouth, Aleu never saw the end coming. When her eyes shot open, the world around her started to fade. His eyes were stained with tears and his lips trembled as he watched her body fall to the ground.

“Rroy,” she whispered with her final breath, “I love you.”

Those were the death of him. Numb to the core, Rroy collapsed to the earth. Looking up at the sky, he wondered if it was all worth it. But before he could even find out that answer, the sky opened up and a single bolt of lightning shot down from the heavens, piercing his heart. In a pool of blood, the lovers meet their fate.

Some say that he planned it all. That he knew lightning was going to strike him down. They say that he knew his death coming and he didn't want to go the after world alone.

There are two graves side by side in the backyard of the house they bought together. Although they never tied the knot, the stones read, "Never even death can do us part."

PROMPT-CODE: J1e
J -- He was an amazing agent/assassin. Couldn't advance or quit without gaining power. To get said power, he had to kill the devil's daughter.
1 -- He ended up breaking things off by killing her. The ultimate way to end things.
e -- At the end, he was at home and it was storming

I quite love this idea actually, I may post something o.0

brush up on my rusty skills.

USER:Dyme
SEEKING?Yes, please pm me.
OPEN TO CRITIQUE? Of course! Be brutally honest, I'm here to improve.
PROMPT-CODE: C14er
SAMPLE: Today, Aiden woke up just like any other day. Just like any day, it was very average. Or, at least that's what he thought. The young man's honey eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim morning light of a cloudy day. As he sat up, he brushed his hair from his weary eyes. Expecting his feet to connect with the soft carpet of his bedroom, Aiden opened his eyes in shock.

Cold and damp cement shocked him fully awake. As the realization hit him that he was indeed outdoors, he realized he'd been lying on the ground, not his comfortable and warm bed. Aiden scrambled up, and looked around him wildly, trying to get an idea of his surroundings. A small breath of relief escaped his lips as he realized he was close to home. However, that relief quickly vanished as another realization hit him. What exactly was he doing outside, barefoot, and with no memory of how he got there?

As Aiden stood on the sidewalk pondering, people passed him by giving him no notice. It was if he wasn't there. Pain flared in his temple, sharp and disorienting. What was going on? He was further disoriented when someone passed through him. Aiden fell backwards in shock. It was something he always thought to be over-exaggerated in movies and stories, but now he'd actually fallen over in shock, of all things. He pushed himself up and began running blindly, not wanting to face the thought that had just presented itself to him: 'What if he was dead?'

By the time he'd stop running Aiden didn't recognize where he was. He shivered and hugged himself, looking down and walking. Once he had collect himself, he looked around. He was in a cemetery. "How fitting." He muttered with a small and bitter laugh. He had died without accomplishing anything in his mundane life. Up ahead, he could see an entrance to a crypt. Aiden descended, deciding to spend his undead life where the dead belonged.

User: Tachigami

Seeking?: Sure, why not? I’m always searching (click the link in my signature for more information and PM me if you like!)

Open to Critique?: Why wouldn’t it be?

Prompt Code: OCM13j

Sample as Follows:

The blazing city lights could almost be mistaken for true sunlight. However, in reality, the beams of the sun were much higher above the domed roof of the cavern, a roof that was always shrouded in darkness save for the electric bulbs that had been strung up upon the descent into the earth’s crust. After the war, which Carter had been told much about, humanity had to leave the decimated world of light and natural foliage to resume an existence in semi-darkness, the only light coming from fire and electricity.

Though while he loved to learn, and loved to teach, he hated his job. Being a high school teacher was, in Carter’s mind, a sentence to spend the majority of the year flailing in a Hell pit of screaming teenagers and thundering hallways. It didn’t pay well, so he had to rely on his top-floor office as a small home. The truth was that he’d been denied many times a position in New Angeles’ colleges, a city held high for its prestigious schools. Carter wasn’t dumb. It burned him that he couldn’t leave behind this thankless position for one a bit better. He sighed. Being in town was a bother, but he didn’t want to take the several-mile tunnel-walk to a little chamber which harbored an underground lake. Instead, he sat in the heart of New Angeles, in a small park. The wrought iron bench was underneath a stunted, pale tree, the product of artificial growth. The grass under his old leather shoes was short and rather prickly.

Leaning back, he brushed the loose blonde hair from behind his wire-rimmed glasses, glancing to the empty bench seat next to him. An old leather-bound book sat there, a peeling silver text spelling out ‘Mitchell Stone’. Carter Hall recognized the name, it was one he’d heard too many times. His own great-grandfather. From that old, world-weary mouth a lifetime of sunlit experience fell, talking of massive fields of long, soft grasses, flowers of many colors, with scent, of blue skies and wind and trees that sometimes had been around for several thousand years. For Carter these were tall tales, myths, often forgotten or rarely spoken of. Even his father dismissed Mitchell’s words with a wave of the hand and snicker, as though he’d heard them when he was a boy and could retell them word-for-word.

His father had given the book to Carter when he died, much younger than Mitchell Stone. The book, Carter had been told, was filled with Mitchell’s recounts of the world before the war, the fall. But Carter didn’t even open it when he had gotten it. He had come directly to the park and sat, in a little corner underneath one of the only trees that had been planted not long ago. The pages were yellowing around the edges, the leather binding terribly battered. Some of the pages had been torn out with age and replaced. Cautiously, he let the book fall open in his hands.

The pages went directly to the middle, where a newer bit of paper had been folded and stowed away, with Carter’s name signed in his father’s handwriting. Curious now, but still cautious, Carter picked up the paper and unfolded it, flattening it on the old, slightly faded script in the unlined, off-white pages of the journal. The writing was certainly his father’s. Straightening his glasses, Carter read:

Carter.

When I give you this, it’ll not be with my own hand. But there are things you must know, and I cannot be around for you to argue. I know you would want to after reading this diary, this letter.

Your great-grandfather’s stories were much, much more. I gave this journal specifically to you when I died because I know you’ll do well to handle the contents. Don’t let anyone else read it. Make sure you keep your following actions to yourself. You’re quick in mind, I know I can trust you to avoid or talk your way through any... difficult situations. You wouldn’t know it now, but when you were little, I always admired that about you.

Go to a quiet place, like I said. Don’t let anyone, even someone you’d trust, read this journal. If humanity ever wants to see the sun again, you’ll have to lead them to it.

I trust you. And you may not have heard it for too long after you left home, but... I love you, son. I always did. And wherever I am now, I always will.

Carter took a deep breath, but couldn’t suppress a tear. He hadn’t heard his father’s voice in years, but when his eyes traversed the old bit of paper, it was as though his father had read the note aloud. He sniffed hard, standing and shoving the paper in his pocket.

Sometimes, Carter’s slightly-oversized clothes came in handy. The wrinkled beige dress shirt certainly helped him hide the book from anyone who would want to snatch it up, tucked protectively in his belt against his stomach. The heart of New Angeles, while crowded, could also be dangerous, and it wasn’t rare for a fleet-footed thief to take off with something not properly guarded.

Vehicular transportation had been lost in the war. Bringing it along seemed too much of a bother with the previous two generations, and because of that, streets were narrow and the quickest way to travel was either by running or biking. Carter didn’t have a bike, but he had a swift gait and many shortcuts others wouldn’t attempt for their off-the-grid locations and dark alleyways. A particular alley, one that led between two taller buildings, was often avoided because it was so dark. Carter, however, had traveled it many times. But, for the sake of safety, he put his hand in the pocket of his black trousers. Generally hidden in the excess folds of fabric, his blade always stood by his side, ready to be used. Underneath the hilt of the blade a small lever could easily be pressed in, extending the blade twelve extra inches to give it a sword-like feel.

Luckily he managed through the narrow alley without disturbance, and made it to the underground river. It ran along the west side of New Angeles and people generally avoided it because of talk of odd creatures that pulled stragglers down into the water. Carter had never seen one, though. Taking a seat on the damp stone with the book, Carter pulled a small light from his other pocket, clipped it to the side of his glasses, and switched it on. The book in his hands was illuminated immediately, easy to see while not too bright.

He didn’t know how much time he spent there. But he had finished the book by the time he looked up and strained to focus on the river’s rushing water. The book was amazing, something that resembled a fairy tale. But there were photos. Snapped over one hundred years ago, pictures of the sky, forests, fields, wild animals he’d never seen in reality but had always heard of and thought about. And his grandfather, his great grandfather, and his father, standing in the midst of a ruined city that resembled New Angeles.

An alien race had attacked the earth long ago, a dying species in search of natural resources that, in desperation, had begun attacking everything in sight. The human race retaliated with their own weapons, and a war quickly ensued. While resource was taken, most of the humans and alien race had been destroyed. The straggling humans escaped to various subterranean tunnels, and the few remaining alien beings had retreated. Carter’s head buzzed with so much information. So much information he had believed to have been real all along. For the first time in months his heart was racing from excitement rather than homicidal rage, and at that moment stood and took off toward town, book stuffed away safely. He had a lot to review and not much time to do it in.

USER: Cora Lorington
SEEKING? Always
OPEN TO CRITIQUE? Sure, It's been awhile and my skills are rather rusty
PROMPT-CODE: A1b
SAMPLE: Ella stood at the edge of the balcony looking out across the vast spread of lush trees that grew over the kingdom, her kingdom. She corrected herself for the hundredth time. She had never asked for this, in fact the truth of the matter was she never even wanted this. She had been more then happy to let her older sister Sellia take the throne with whatever man would be her king, and she would have served her loyally till the very end of time, if that was what Sellia had wanted. That was in the past now. Sellia had been taken from them without a warning, how cruel the world was to take such a delicate flower from the world. Crushed beneath the weight of the world. No, She thought to herself, fighting back the tears that where struggling to leave those emerald eyes, Sellia didn't deserve to die like she did.Now the kingdom fell to her. Even if she didn't want and certainly didn't ask for it, it was hers.

Absentmindedly her eyes fell on the village of Quastha in the distance and a soft sort of sardonic smile played her lips. It wasn't as if she didn't love her kingdom, the fact was she did love it. It was because she loved the land and its people that she had to do the very thing she did not want to. But for the kingdom, and her people she would do anything, even marry a man she did not love.

Ella heaved a heavy sigh, gently wiped the tears out of her eyes and turned from the balcony to re-enter her room. It was a simple room for all intents and purposes. She could have had virtually anything she wanted, and she chose simple. A nicely but simply furnished bed, A comfortable chair and a vanity table where the only furniture in the room. She passed all of the furniture towards a door on the other side of the room, and stuck her head through this. The room served as a room for her Lady in Waiting, whom at the moment was seated at a small wooden desk writing something. "Aya, would you come prepare my hair for tonight dinner?"

More then needing her hair done for the very important dinner that night, Ella wanted a friend to talk to. Aya's mother had worked as the Lady in Waiting to Ella's mother, and the two, despite social class differences of course, had grown up in the castle together. Aya was, and Ella would never doubt this, Ella's best friend. She could tell her anything, even if it was just a shoulder to cry on, or another mind to bounce idea's off of. Right now Ella needed both.

She crossed the room and took a seat at her vanity table while Aya set to work on combing out her long fiery red. For a long time she sat like this without saying a word, and Aya, who knew that Ella needed her silence to her thoughts, worked in silence on combing and styling her hair. Finally after long moments of deep thought Ella once more spoke to her best friend. "Aya, what am I supposed to do?" There where tears in her eyes as she spoke despite her will to push them back. "I am sure you have heard by now Prince Calleph of Teripheme plans to propose to me tonight"

"But my lady, Teripheme is a rich country, with a lot of land. Surely this is a good thing for you" She was attempting to sound reassuring, Ella could here it in her voice though, and she knew that Aya knew why this was not good news.

"What am I to tell Richard? I was already promised to marry the Duke's Son Richard. And, Aya.....I Love him"

"Couldn't you choose to not accept Prince Calleph's offer?" But again Ella could here the tone under the cheery exterior. Aya knew as well as she did, that wasn't the way things worked.

"Father has already made the arrangements, tonight is just a formality. The pairing will help the country, more then the marriage to a Duke's son will." She felt Aya's arms wrap around her shoulder, like that of a comforting friend.

"You'll be alright, my lady. Richard will always be a part of you, but the Prince shall be a part of you as well."

USER: There is Only ZUUL
SEEKING? A role play, I am opened to be contacted via PM, or by my thread.
OPEN TO CRITIQUE? Sure.
PROMPT-CODE: OC-H-j
SAMPLE:

H) You have a secret. Perhaps it's something relatively innocent. Or maybe you could go to jail or even be killed if people knew the truth. By nature, you are a very honest person. And this secret is sitting heavily within you...
j) In the heart of a major city.

Blood coated her left arm; she had been pegged by a bullet when one of her associates startled the male she was trying to do business with. She held her right hand over the wound as she braced herself against the side of the “Get Away” car as one put it. She was waiting for the gunfire to stop she was more than positive one or two were dead. The sound of alarms caused her to freeze up, perfect just what she needed, the wonderful Gotham Bacon patrol. She took a few breaths and moved in a sprint, vaulting off of the ledge of the parking garage. She didn’t have time to even try to brace herself her body hit the roof of the small business below and she rolled with a groan. This could have gone so much better. None of her ‘associates’ knew who she was; they just knew the name she went by. “Scarecrow.” Elizabeth had done well for herself, she was known as the one that could get anything. She had her father’s old connections and a few new connections, she had been lucky enough to keep herself low enough she hadn’t the pleasure of meeting any of these so called ‘heroes.’

She stayed close to the ground as she moved to the roof’s door; she slipped down into the building and quickly made her way down the hallway so she could get out of this building. Her heart was pounding, she hadn’t expected to have to take a leap off the roof, luckily it wasn’t a horrible fall, had she been any higher she would have probably broken her neck and a dead Scarecrow was not in her cards today. She hissed a bit in pain as she walked quickly, she turned the corner quickly and growled to herself slipping back around it when she saw the cops. Really? Was this really happening to her right now? She checked her airborne toxin system before nodding. She waited until the cop got closer before she thrust her arm out and twisted her wrist enough to trigger the system filling the air around them with the man inhaled the toxin and within seconds he was down on the ground trying to crawl away from her. She raised an eyebrow at the man, had she had any more time she would have stayed to study him more, but time was being pressed and she couldn’t risk getting caught.

She quickly moved passed the man, she took off in a run jumping from the balcony to the stairwell to avoid two sets of stairs, She did it again at the other stair case and moved to slip out the side door, she looked around and moved down the alleyway. She had to get home quickly, to fix her arm, how was she supposed to explain this to work? Oh well, she wouldn’t worry about that right now. Right now she had to worry about getting far enough away and getting home. She moved quickly through the alleyways dodging cops and homeless people. She quickly moved to take off her goggles and mask once she got back towards the main part of town. She quickly moved to take off her jacket and wrapped the mask and goggles in them as she walked.

It didn’t take her long to hail a cab and get home. She paid the man and moved quickly into her apartment, being quiet as not to disturb her room mates. She quickly moved to throw her jacket into her bedroom before she moved to her bathroom she got out her first aid kit and went to work. First step was to get the damned bullet out of her arm. She could just hear her father now. ‘You need to be more careful, and never go first, let your henchmen do that, never actually touch the things, the henchmen do the dirty work’ She shook her head, If only it was that easy, she didn’t actually trust her henchpeople.

She dug around for the bullet and pulled it out she hissed again and dropped the shards onto her counter as she moved to clean the wound up before she went to work on sewing the wound shut. “….“Will you walk into my parlor?"
said the spider to the fly;
"Tis the prettiest little parlor that you ever did spy.
The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,
And I have many curious things to show when you are there."
"Oh no, no!" said the little fly,
"to ask me is in vain;
For who goes up your winding stair
can never come down again." She hissed a bit as she worked on her wound.


See she could have gone to the hospital, but if anyone knew Elizabeth properly they knew she would risk death rather than going to the hospital. It was just a thing, she hated hospitals, and they frightened her. She always blew it off as ‘that’s where the zombie apocalypse would start.’ Most people left it after she went to ‘zombies’.

Elizabeth was normally a rather serious person, but she did know how to have ‘normal’ fun. She was quite fond of horror movies and her favorite ones were those slasher gore ones. Not the newer movies but the older movies. She only liked a few of the newer movies, perhaps she would get a movie…no…she had to focus. She dabbed on some of the stuff to clean the wounds before she wrapped the stitched up wound with gauze so things wouldn’t have a chance to reopen it. She heard a meow at her feet and looked down, her black Abyssinian cat. “Yes Ich?” She asked lightly the cat jumped up to the counter and pawed at her hand. “I’m busy.” She sighed but moved to pet the cat lightly. It meowed again and moved to climb up on her she sighed and grabbed him cradling the cat. “You are the biggest baby Ichabod.” She sighed.

The Cat purred and rubbed his head against her shoulder lightly. She sighed and moved to take Ich back into her bedroom closing him in, she moved back to the bathroom to go clean up the blood on the counter, because that would be hard to explain. Not that she couldn’t do it, she was sure she could explain it if she needed too. She quickly returned to her room, she didn’t make it a task to really talk much. Then the fact that she was in pain, and it was early in the morning made her not want to risk talking to people. She slipped into her room and locked the door. Ich was on her bed mewing for her she shook her head and moved to get undressed and redressed for bed. Brahm , her crow, cawed from his corner cage. She sighed and moved to feed him, “Tomorrow when I am working on my new formula you can come out I promise.” Her fingers trailed against the birds head before she locked the cage and moved to curl on the bed, Ichabod curled against her stomach when she flipped onto her side. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep.

-break-


The morning was rough for Elizabeth she woke up later then she planned on it. Fed Ichabod and let Brahm out of his cage for a while as she worked on her formula. Brahm took perch on her bedframe as it eyed the mice in the cage. “You’re hungry?” She asked the bird not looking up from her formula, the bird gave a soft caw sound and she sighed moving to get up and grab one of the mice from the tank. Brahm cawed and moved attacking the mouse Elizabeth watched and shook her head, Brahm finished the mouse. She sighed and moved back over to her bed. That was until her phone went off, she looked at it and remembered what day it was, Saturday.

She had to go meet Ray at the coffee store; it was a ritual after all. She moved to get Brahm back into his cage and started to get dressed. Today she wore a tank top under a white lacey see through short sleeved shirt. She wiggled into her jeans and put her heels on as she moved towards her door. “Ich stay…” she sighed but Ichabod ran off and hid under the couch. “If you get eaten I’m not responsible.” She called to the cat before slipping out and started towards the bathroom to get make up on. After that she started for the door and left.

She took another cab to the Starbucks. She happily got out paid and moved to meet Ray, but first she needed a double chocolate chip iced frap. Once it was in her possession she sipped at it as she moved over to meet Ray, she slipped into the seat across from him and inspected him. “Well hello there RayRay.” She smirked and sipped at her drink some more. “How was your night?” she asked calmly as she looked around. She remembered that she had class Monday, she sighed, how was she was going to juggle all this stuff.

USER: RetroTV
SEEKING? Sure! Feel free to PM me, I'm not looking for anything specific.
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PROMPT-CODE: H 16 e
SAMPLE:

Some people may find this content disturbing
This sample is about a young man stalking a young woman, and eventually doing unmentionable things to her, some of which aren't mentioned, but alluded to. This is my first attempt at a dark roleplay post. It's nothing graphic, but the idea is there. Yes, it is in first person, sorry.

I don't know what came over me. It was such a dark time. I tried not to think of her, with her golden flowing hair covering her shoulders, cascading down her back. She had heterochromia, which only added to her beauty. Her eyes reflected the beautiful colors of the heavens, the inner ring of her iris put all the gold in the world to shame, while the second ring was the color of a blue Morpho butterfly. Aphrodite would turn in shame if this woman ever arrived on Mount Olympus. That doesn't explain what happened though. I can't really remember.

It was sunny out that day. Probably a Sunday, her favorite day of the week. I remember calling out to her at the park, "Marna! Marna!" I was reaching out to her, trying to touch her silky skin with my hands. I was shocked when she pulled back, and gave me such a chilling look. Maybe I was too overbearing, but she would come around. She had agreed to go to the park with me for the Midsummer festival, after all. She wore a short sundress. White and yellow, like a daisy. Small gusts of wind would pass through, and throw the back of her dress up. I saw her panties.

She ignored me for the rest of the day. We ate our soused herring, with baked potatoes quietly. The only sound the two of us made were when we moved our cups to sample the beer, or when I would reach for the sour cream and chives. I can't remember what happened after that, I may have drank too much.

I remember the two of us made it to my home after the festival was cut short by overcast clouds, and the threat of rain. I invited her in to say, but she refused. I don't think I took her refusal well, "Marna, you have to," I screamed at her, pulling her wrist to the point of almost dislocating her arm, "It's dangerous out, with the storm coming. You have to stay here!" I wailed at her, but she didn't look like she wanted to stay with me. I made her stay, I begged, pleaded, and eventually used force.

She finally caved, and stayed. I went out back to my study to tidy up. All those pictures of her I had, I tucked neatly away into my folders. Every single one was labeled by date and time. Some were filed by what she was, or wasn't wearing, some were filed by where she was, or what she was doing. All I knew, was that she didn't know I had these. What I really wanted was a picture of us together.

I finally rejoined her after sorting my materials. I brought my camera with me, and smiled at her, "How about a picture so we can always remember the great date we had?" She didn't reply. She only looked around my living room, taking in every detail from my vintage tufted leather couch, to the paintings on the walls. I don't think she liked the paintings as much as I did, especially Saturn Devouring His Son. I had so many renditions of that painting, but if she hated it, I would gladly throw it away. I hoped she didn't see the painting in the corner, so small, almost like a picture in it's tiny frame. It was custom, made for me, of her. Maybe she didn't see the resemblance.

I sat down next to her, and smiled, "Maybe?" I quizzically asked her, forming a sheepish smile. She finally agreed after a couple minutes of badgering. I told her I'd be right back as I had to change clothes. I didn't want to change, so I just took my jacket off. She didn't know what I wore under it, because I didn't take it off. I returned with a simple button up white collar shirt. I felt so dashing in it, she couldn't refuse me! I sat next to her, and got as close as I could. Our legs were touching, and that made me euphoric. I set the camera on its tripod, and turned on the timer. "Cheese, Marna!" I smiled towards her during the picture, taking in all her beauty. She didn't smile, not for the picture, and not for me.

Around an hour of idle chit chat passed, simple questions like how many people she's slept with, or how she feels about people touching her feet. She started to get antsy with me, and started pushing me away when I tried to kiss her neck. I could feel the fury welling inside me. Why agree on a date then refuse my kiss?

Another hour rolled by, only this one was of awkward silence. Marna had moved to a chair directly across from me. She was staring at me with hatred in her eyes. Another five minutes passed of her just staring at me... Judging me. She got up to leave, luckily for me, when I brought her to the door, it was storming out. Thick rain pounded on the roof, and lightning light up the skies. There was no way she was leaving, even though she tried.

Marna went to walk out the door, but I managed to grab her by the upper arms, "You can't leave, it's terrible out. I know! You can stay in my room." I could see fear growing in her, but there was nothing to fear. I loved her, and she would be mine. I pulled her back inside, and started to stroke her hair when I pulled her onto my couch with me. I could feel her whimpering, and stifling her sobbing. I passed her some tissues, and she finally spoke, "Please... Let me go home. I don't want to be here!" The rage I felt earlier was now boiling over.

"You ungrateful bitch, I bring you on a beautiful date, show you hospitality, and this is how you repay me?" I started screaming, and then blacked out. I don't know what else happened, but when I woke up the next day, her cold, mutilated body was laying on the floor next to my bed.

I had beaten Marna to death with my own two hands when she refused to be with me. I didn't know what to do, so I dragged her out back, and tried to find a shovel to bury her body with. Luckily for me, the ground was soft and easy to move now. I removed all of her bloody clothes, right down to her underpants. These, I would keep, and store them in with the rest of my collection of her.

A week passed, and the police showed up at my door. Someone had said that I was the last person they saw with Marna. I could almost feel that bile of rage in my throat again. I had to keep cool this time, the police were here. I smiled at them coyly, "No, she went home after we had a 'run in' if you know what I mean." I winked at the officer, but he didn't seem thrilled with the answer. He then pulled out a notebook, and began reading. At the end, he added, "In conclusion, we've had reports of you stalking this woman. None of her friends say she would have willingly gone on a date with you. We have reason to believe she may still be in your home. We have a warrant to check."

Pure uncontrolled rage filled me. I jumped up, and swung a glass lamp at the man, ripping it from the wall outlet. I missed, the lamp shattered on the floor, as he drew his gun. I saw my life, and all my regrets, of which, the biggest was ever harming Marna. How could something that began so innocent as me loving her, turn into me being the reason she's not with us anymore? I finally felt it, sadness. I was the reason her family would never see her, I was the reason she would never complete college, and I was the reason that Marna was dead. In my last moments of life on earth, I felt anger, and regret, knowing that her last time on earth was intimately with me.

It was done. A bullet straight between my eyes. I could feel my skull shatter, and my blood, and brain tissue be ripped from my body. "I'm so sorry." I mumbled before my body hit the floor. I never intended for this to happen to her, but in the end, this world is much better off without people like me.