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The Mood is Write

Ink-Dripping Elfmom, Word Bondage Enthusiast
SITE SUPPORT
DONATING MEMBER
Roleplay Invitations
One on One Roleplays
Posting Speed
Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
11PM to 2AM EST, plus or minus a few hours in either direction.
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Prestige
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Combination.

My strengths lie more in the direction of emotions and short-term ideas, where my ability to plan out long-term plots is weak. I do best with a partner who helps me cover that weakness.
Favorite Genres
I'm open to a wide range of genres. Obscenely wide. It's harder for me to list all I do like than all I don't like. My absolute favorite is mixed and multiverse, but I'm not limited to those.

• Mixed Genre
• Multiverse
• High Fantasy
• Hard Fantasy
• Low Fantasy
• OP Fantasy
• Science Fantasy
• Modern Fantasy
• Soft Scifi
• Science Fantasy
• Low Scifi
• OP Science Fantasy
• Modern Realistic (Strict)
• Modern Realistic (Loose)
• Urban Fantasy
• Alternate History (Fantasy Preference)
• Post-Apocalyptic Mixed
• Post-Apocalyptic Fantasy
• Post-Apocalyptic Scifi
• Post-Apocalyptic Modern
• Dystopia
• Displacement
• Military
• Dying Earth
• Supernatural
• Drama
• Mystery
• Horror
• Religious
• LBGT
• Crime/Detective
• Parody
• Comedy
• Tragedy
• Romance (Must Include Others)
• Erotic (Must Include Others)
Genre You DON'T Like
The list is short. because it's hard to find genres I don't enjoy.

• Yaoi/Yuri (Gay/Lesbian is fine!)
• Furry
• Fandom
• Historic Non-Fantasy
#1
K stared at the King of Hell for several long moments as the silence dragged on and on. With a slow movement, he turned away—he had his answer, but... he didn't like it.

"Where do you think you're going, plaything?" the King asked.

K glanced back as he answered, "Home."

"Wrong." The king's grin spread wide, revealing vaporous black teeth with wicked barbs. "How easy was it to enter? To travel this deep, to enter my own sanctum at the very center of Hell?"

K looked back properly, brows furrowed as he tried to understand what this demon meant.

"For being so intelligent, you're not very clever, are you?"

K lifted his head, offended, but before he could object, the demon closed the distance between them and cupped K's chin in one hand.

"You oblivious little creature. Hell isn't for tourists. Hell is for torment. Hell has entrances, but no exits."

"People have left," K objected, stepping away from the unwanted touch.

"They came prepared. You have... nothing. No weapons. No equipment. You, Kasey Peterson, are an ant in a pitcher plant..." His grin grew wider.

K finally noticed the barbs, and his eyes shot wide. He wasn't stopped. They wanted him there, going ever-deeper. Everything in Hell was to punish sinners, and what action could be more prideful and sinful than entering alive and on purpose? Going deep into it, as deep as it went, just for answers?

The moment it clicked, his feet slammed the polished black floor as laughter echoed behind him. Shadowy spears narrowly missed him as he fled, gripping the straps of his backpack as he exited, then slammed the door.

Thudthudthudthudthud!

He panted against the door, and slowly, the stone-like guards turned to look at him, their bodies clinking as the dark stones moved. They stared at K, and he stared back with wide eyes.

The quiet lasted only a beat before a dark aura pulsed suddenly from the guardians.

K gritted his teeth as they began to approach, the titanic beings no longer sounding like chimes, but a cacophony that burned into K's ears.

Past them, he saw Didi, staring at him with wide, confused eyes, one hand over her mouth. Horned, bald, and clad in business attire, the pure black demon wasn't very bright, but she waved to K regardless.

He ducked to one side as a guard launched a slow-moving attack at him, and K scrambled as his hands hit the black stone of hell's floor. He launched himself forward, toward Didi, expecting her to help him.

Instead, that peaceful face he'd come to trust morphed into wicked joy as her grin and her claws grew.

K veered and avoided her lunge.

Barely.

She cut his clothing, but he didn't stop to look back.

He ran.

If anything drew his blood, anything at all, he would never emerge from Hell.

Every level brought its own struggle. Heat. Cold. Guards. Demons.

Only at the first ring did he have chance to pause as he escaped the sight of the first ring's guardians. He pressed himself in a nook of the great red-stone spires and let the dust of Hell itself disguise him, even as it irritated his skin.

Moments became minutes became hours, and the sounds of the guards faded from cacophony to gentle tinkling, and then began to grow distant at last.

His shoulders slowly sagged, until he heard something else. Not the winds or the wailings, but a distinct voice.

"K? Is that you?"

K opened his eyes, then uncovered his mouth as he nodded, slow, and then more rapidly.

The man. They met before. K remembered him by his hair: a short ponytail with shaved sides.

"What happened to Marshall?" the man asked, and K began to hunch.

"Dunno," he managed, his voice choked by his own stress as he looked away.

"Shit, guy like him, probably got himself killed." The man sighed. "Listen, come on, I told you I'd talk to the others, they'd come around. You can come back to camp! They won't kick you out again, I promise." He smiled and offered his hand to K.

Slowly, K looked at the hand, and then up, only to spot a black spike in the man's chest. Red began to grow around it, soaking into the man's shirt, and as K looked up at the man's face for the first time, he saw the man's wide-eyed shock.

"Oh," the man said. His last word before his body was ripped back and away from K, then set upon by the first ring's demons: quadrupedal creatures larger than house cats. Spiked tails and bony bodies covered in ridges gave them an evil look, but their four-inch claws only cemented their menace.

K turned. He closed his eyes. He ran.

He ran as the man screamed.

He ran as he listened to flesh rip and blood drip, the sound so close he may as well have had his ear right beside the devouring beasts.

He ran until he slammed into and through something. It sent a ripple through him. Suddenly... he felt.

His body ached. His lungs burned. His skin screamed agony, and he gasped in his first breath since he first entered the gates of Hell.

He escaped.

His legs lost their energy all at once, and he made it only a few more steps before he collapsed against something hard.

He opened his eyes. A long wooden bench.

K let himself fall onto it. He panted as sweat and tears began to form and run down his skin, carving streaks through the dust that covered his sunburnt face.

So cold.

This place... so cold... So bright.

So silent. He heard his every ragged breath, heard his own pulse, heard the quiet sound of his palms squeaking against the wood, and heard even the brush of his layered clothing.

Too much.

Bile rose in his throat, and then spewed forth. Chunks of a meal long forgotten spewed onto the floor. Dazed eyes looked around, blurry and unfocused, before he shuddered and crawled the rest of the way onto the bench. A sob escaped, and then another.

He was free.

Freedom hurt.
 
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
Whenever the fuck. What's a sleep schedule?
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
A fair bit of passive, but will take control of a story if needed and wanted.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Modern Fantasy, Steampunk, Modern, Sci-Fi/Cyberpunk
Genre You DON'T Like
Anything goes, but with an asterisk: If the RP is heavily centered fetishes and whatnot I'm probably not going to play it.
#2
The church, though well maintained, had long since been abandoned. Really, the only reason it was so well-kept is because it was treated as a historical landmark. Even so, tourists weren't allowed inside so the city ruled it okay to leave the interior alone. As a result, dust caked everything from the pews to the orator's lectern, to even the cold wax candles that haven't seen any light for ages. Cobwebs inhabited every corner of the ancient building, and especially in the large cathedral ceiling where they crisscrossed all over the empty space, with a few broken ones hanging low to the floor. Despite its cold and musty atmosphere, there was still enough natural light filtering through the stained glass and untouched windows to give the church something of a bright glow.

On closer inspection, however, the building seemed to be less than hospitable - graffiti and other assorted vandalism was on full display wherever you went inside the building. The only windows that were boarded up seemed to be ones that had been busted out in some manner. Even a few of the pews were broken in half, like someone had fallen or was slammed into them like some kind of street fight. Listening closely, one could make out the skittering of rats amongst the hustle-bustle noise of the city around them. Engines hummed from the vehicles that swooped around outside, the muffled aimless chatter of pedestrians could only just barely be made out, occasionally sirens from emergency personnel could be heard blaring in the distance - it was definitely downtown. Cernum City, the shining exemplar of modern life, hardly seemed like the kind of progressive place that would keep an old musty church around. Despite this sentiment being echoed by some councilors, the people seemed to like having it around, and so every time the vote came up to demolish it, there was an overwhelming response to keep it. Eventually, the city just gave up and filed for it to be protected as a historic landmark.

Of course, as with any permanently abandoned building, it played host to a number of vagabonds and drifters as they pleased. One such drifter was Thomas Lockwood, though on first look one would be forgiven for thinking otherwise. Well groomed and with an outfit that was always kept clean, Thomas seemed like the last kind of person who'd be living in an abandoned church, and yet his was the face that emerged from a pile of blankets in one of the rooms to the side of the main hall. Fixing his skewed glasses first, Thomas rose to his feet cautiously as the shock and surprise of the sudden noise filtered through his system. What he heard and what he saw did not match up - except for the retching, obviously, but the ungodly racket that preceded it doesn't line up with the child-sized person that was spat out into the pews. Ever the samaritan, Thomas approached them, but kept a slightly glinting playing card in his fingers just in case it turned out to be some kind of supernatural beast.

"Hey, kid, you alright?"
 

The Mood is Write

Ink-Dripping Elfmom, Word Bondage Enthusiast
SITE SUPPORT
DONATING MEMBER
Roleplay Invitations
One on One Roleplays
Posting Speed
Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
11PM to 2AM EST, plus or minus a few hours in either direction.
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Prestige
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Combination.

My strengths lie more in the direction of emotions and short-term ideas, where my ability to plan out long-term plots is weak. I do best with a partner who helps me cover that weakness.
Favorite Genres
I'm open to a wide range of genres. Obscenely wide. It's harder for me to list all I do like than all I don't like. My absolute favorite is mixed and multiverse, but I'm not limited to those.

• Mixed Genre
• Multiverse
• High Fantasy
• Hard Fantasy
• Low Fantasy
• OP Fantasy
• Science Fantasy
• Modern Fantasy
• Soft Scifi
• Science Fantasy
• Low Scifi
• OP Science Fantasy
• Modern Realistic (Strict)
• Modern Realistic (Loose)
• Urban Fantasy
• Alternate History (Fantasy Preference)
• Post-Apocalyptic Mixed
• Post-Apocalyptic Fantasy
• Post-Apocalyptic Scifi
• Post-Apocalyptic Modern
• Dystopia
• Displacement
• Military
• Dying Earth
• Supernatural
• Drama
• Mystery
• Horror
• Religious
• LBGT
• Crime/Detective
• Parody
• Comedy
• Tragedy
• Romance (Must Include Others)
• Erotic (Must Include Others)
Genre You DON'T Like
The list is short. because it's hard to find genres I don't enjoy.

• Yaoi/Yuri (Gay/Lesbian is fine!)
• Furry
• Fandom
• Historic Non-Fantasy
#3
K shivered violently as he looked up, eyes unfocused, at the stranger, whose voice felt so loud K could scarcely comprehend the words he said for several moments before finally, he started to nod, ready to dismiss the person as unnecessary, before that simple movement brought another coughing fit, sending red dust from his mouth as he laid there, hugging himself about the chest.

He was... not ok. he was so not ok, he couldn't even lie about it properly.

"Water," he tried to say between coughs, but only a small croak emerged.
 
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
Whenever the fuck. What's a sleep schedule?
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
A fair bit of passive, but will take control of a story if needed and wanted.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Modern Fantasy, Steampunk, Modern, Sci-Fi/Cyberpunk
Genre You DON'T Like
Anything goes, but with an asterisk: If the RP is heavily centered fetishes and whatnot I'm probably not going to play it.
#4
Thomas looked on with concern as the poor kid absolutely struggled against themself, coughing up some sort of dust that looked like it came from somewhere else entirely. Despite the lack of a true answer, it was clear they weren't okay at all. In between the kid's coughing fits, Thomas could have sworn he heard the word 'water', but it was so broken up he couldn't make it out properly. He wasn't going to take any chances, though.

"Water? Alright, give me just a minute..." he assured them, before quickly striding out through a hole in the back wall that he used as a makeshift door to the church. Exiting out into the bright sunlight, Thomas held up a hand to shield his eyes as he scanned around for one of the city's ubiquitous vendor droids. As luck would have it, one of the rolling robots was approaching their location on the sidewalk at that very moment. Without pausing to ponder the whimsies of fate, Thomas rounded the church and flagged down the droid, retrieving his bank card from one of the pockets in his duster jacket. After a quick exchange of currency with a scan of his card, the spherical droid closed its lid and the humming of internal vibration could be heard. A quick second passed, and where there was once empty space now stood a bottle of clean, pure water. The drifter snagged it without a moment's notice and dashed back to the "back door" of the church, leaving the vendor droid to continue its patrol.

"Alright, I've got it," he called out, flicking open the snap-shut lid and holding out the hard plastic bottle as he entered the central hall of the church again. Hopefully the kid hadn't choked to death in the interim, but Thomas wasn't about to dwell on what-ifs.