Looking for RPers who post about once a week


[Impressive Title Here]
Original poster
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
Varies incredibly
Writing Levels
Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Favorite Genres
Modern/realistic. Low fantasy. Low Scifi. Supernatural. Future Dystopia (not post-apoc).
Genre You DON'T Like
High fantasy. High sci-fi. Medieval. Zombies.
Hey all,

See title! lol
Seems like everyone expects replies to come super fast. I can't do that and I'm 80% sure there's others around here who can't either. So here's my thread searching for RPers who also only reply about once a week OR would be okay with me posting once a week.

I do clean roleplays and I do semi-naughty stuff. At the moment, I'll only do pure smut if it's comedy. For the plots and settings, assume it's all clean unless otherwise specified.
I also only RP in threads. I write in 3rd person, past tense, and using paragraphs. I am extremely flexible though; I don't expect novellas every post. I tend to mirror my partner's length more often than not. If we end up doing something NSFW then you have to be a red star (18+). For the clean RPs I don't care about age.

My main interests are (and they can be exclusive from one another):
- porno comedy
- urban fantasy
- light scifi
- modern
- supernatural
- tragedy

I do have pre-made characters that I tend to use (which are here and have post examples) but I can also make new ones up for roleplays as well.

Here are some settings and plot ideas, but by all means don't be limited to what is listed here.
If you're interested in anything, PM me! Thanks.

Named characters are generally played by me, but if you want to play one or insert your character in their place, then I am open to it!
It can be used as simply a setting or as a starting point for a plot. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The Premier kink club of the West, Eowan Bold is a multi-floor establishment. The main entrance is an unmarked sunken door at the end of an alleyway. After five steps down into the basement, you will enter the general club space with a large dance floor and lounge areas. A second entrance on the other side of the street is at street-level. This marked, theatre entrance leads to a vast open area with a stage at one side, a bar on the other, and dozens of small tables with semi-private round booths between. A gradual slope down to the stage make every seat good for the show without any trip hazards. The music here is lower in volume than the basement, and the shows provide high-brow fetish performances and exhibitions. The food isn't that bad, either.

The man who runs it all is known as Tristan, a fiery 35 year old who takes running the business seriously, but still partakes in his own sins on occasion. He keeps his club mostly legal, but he can't help it if the atmosphere attracts certain types of individuals. The club's been operating for many years now, and mostly outside the limelight of the law. But that might be due to the information Trist possesses on some high-key individuals rather than the club's moral merits.

The co-owner and partner in crime (only theoretically, of course!) is resident dominatrix Mabe. An older woman of pasty complexion and bright purple hair, she assists in administrative duties but is most often the most visible manager, frequently on the floor with the patrons and making things exciting. She's got a business/relationship with Trist, who, despite his domineering personality loves to play her sub. The two of them together can put on quite the show on stage, but rarely get the chance given the work it takes to keep things running well. While they are both serious about running their business, Mabe is the slightly more rational one, keeping her head cool under pressure and stressing about finances. Trist, on the other hand, sometimes panics and displays that through acquiring employees. Of course, they each have their own side dealings, but Trist's are a little less legal. Or are they? Part of the dom/sub relationship is trust of course, and Mabe knows better than to ask half the time.

Now if only those side gigs would stop getting themselves employed at her their club….

There are two cities here.

One is the as-of-yet-unnamed city where humans and all sorts of supernatural creatures live on an "equal" playing field. Other species are analogous to disenfranchised minorities. Lycans, anthropomorphic wolves who cannot transform, are similar to indigenous peoples. Werewolves, human-wolf shifters, are most analogous to trans people. I have no good write up on this setting, but there's some brain vomit here. The plot "Lycanthropic Triad" takes place in this city.

The second city is Begalf. It is similar to the above city, but more openly racist/speciesist and classist. Incredibly polluted, the city is cramped with several skyscrapers built too close to one another. They and the dense smog block out the sun. A futuristic society built on the advancement of technology in pursuit of profit, Belgalf fully encompasses and encourages planned obsolescence. The city runs on credits, a digital currency preloaded into plastic cards or microchips embedded into personal items (including body parts).

"Mechanix" (broadly, automail + Repo! Genetic Opera-like synthetic body parts and organs) are incredibly popular here, with "Tweakers" being the ones who obsessively pursue these parts out of need, vanity, or status. Mechanix can be seen as an outward display of wealth, but modifying the body in too many ways can also be seen as trashy and looked down upon. This city has a plot idea sharing its name.

Headphone Jack takes place in the country of Musica, whose political party Metallica has outlawed music approximately 100 years ago through The Mute Movement.

Musica is bordered by the countries of Indie, Emo, and Headphone. Separated by The Great Wall, it is patrolled constantly to keep out musical contraband. There are whispers of an impending war between Musica, Indie, and Emo. Headphone, however, remains neutral.

Two gangs in Musica have formed - NuMetal (Nus) and Electronica (Elecs).
Nus deal mainly media (CDs, etc.) while Elecs specialize in music creation devices, such as instruments. Both gangs get their product from Headphone in operations called Jacks.

Clefs are the law enforcement of Musica. Their aim is to completely eliminate music and gang activity. Metallica has made this easy for them, as the penalty for gang affiliation and music trade is death.

It is a serious setting overrun with puns. It was originally a group RP but I'd be interested to see what a 1x1 might look like with it.
The Mute Movement.

When the Metallica political party took over, the country of Musica went through a profound cultural shift. Under the totalitarian dictatorship, all music was banned.
Singing? No. Humming? Gone.
Any remote relationship to rhythm was quickly silenced and the perpetrator forcefully detained by the Clefs.
The Great Wall was built to divide Musica from its music-loving border nations of Indie, Emo, and Headphone. Clefs were instructed to shoot anything suspicious on sight, making emmigration and trade difficult. The dissatisfaction is now beginning to culminate and there are whispers of war.

Approximately 100 years later, Musicians believe the Metallica is benevolent and agree with the music ban. Most citizens of Musica have never heard music, and if faced with it, recoil in pain. This is due to the Tie, a device implanted into native Musicians' inner ears in infancy which painfully vibrates when frequencies outside human speech are heard.
Music's painful connotations have fostered a culture of hate toward melodies and those who engage with them. What kind of people enjoy tormenting others?

Enter the rival gangs, Electronica and NuMetal, the members of each labeled Elecs and Nus. With the invention of a secret procedure known as Tempo Control, they have been able to remove Musicians' Ties and enjoy music without pain.

The Nus specialize in media and consumption while the Elecs concentrate on instruments and production. Both gangs illegally provide all sorts of music paraphernalia, from CDs to pianos, through what the gangs call Headphone Jacks - the process of acquiring the items from the neutral bordering country of Headphone.

Both gangs have been running for about five years, but unbeknownst to many, have a common origin: Nausicaa. It was a rumble between the two original co-founders that produced the rival gangs. Now, they fight against eachother for territory, patrons, and power. Both have a wish to overthrow Metallica and overturn the music ban, but until they can get to that point, their standard operating procedures differ too much to work together.

Distributing illegal music paraphenalia, planning to overthrow the government, and generally engaging in deviant behavior have all caused gang members to be labeled as outlaws. Any known members should be reported to the clefs immediately.

The penalty for gang affiliation and music dealing is death. The punishment for simply enjoying music? One year in prison and Reformation - a process whereby a neurotoxin completely removes the ability to hear anything outside the spectrum of human speech.
The court's jury that decides the outcome? Clefs, not peers!

However, there is still hope. There's been hushed rumors of The DJ, a juice that not only has the ability to restore a Reformed Musician's hearing, but also grants the user impervious to any Reformation in the future.

The DJ, if found, could be a severe threat to the Metallica, initiate national change, and grant the gang who finds it impenetrable power.

The gang with the juice wins Musica. And once Musica is won, they can run their world as they please, without a rival gang being in their way. A revolution will come.

There's just one problem: No one knows where it is.

Ryan ("Rye"), the head of the Nus, is said to have an older brother that is a Clef. The Elecs don't know if this information is true, but assume it to be. The Nus are never given clarification on the matter, since whenever Ryan's past is brought up, someone gets the beatdown. His short temper makes running the gang difficult, but he manages.

Electronica's leader, Rachel ("Rae"), is believed to be the source of Rye's animus. Running the Elecs more like a business than a labor of love, she has high profile connections and an even higher profit margin.

To join a gang, prospective members must go through the beat-in. If the applicants endure this, they may have their Tie removed and go on their intiatory mission - A First Accent - to prove themselves as dedicated to the gang.

After these introductory practices, the members are considered part of the family and are to be protected under that gang. Once substantial trust is gained, they can begin to learn the trade secrets and start dealing, selling, and/or participating in Headphone Jacks.

Demons and supernatural creatures walk the Earth, but only "The Corrupted" can see their true forms. Due to "The Veil," both a concept and a law, Demons erect an illusion so they do not arouse suspicion.
However, when a demon and a human have a child, they are not always bound by the this law....

I've started work on a wiki for this universe. You can adhere to everything I've written down so far, or just take the concepts of the Veil and Corrupted as a launching point and go from there.

(in no particular order)

1. Something where I play a mostly post-transition trans person

2. I play an Ex-con trying to get his life back on track.

3. Something pretty religious. Or where religion plays a big role in the setting, at least. (any religion, can even be a fictitious one)

4. Porno comedy. I so very much want to do a comedy smut rp.

5. An RP inspired by The Lost Room. And/or a smut version of it (where the effects of the items are mostly sexual)

6. A weird mashup setting of The Lost Room, Warehouse 13, and Men in Black, which also somehow manages to work in R.I.P.D. and/or Repo men (or Repo! The Genetic Opera). But it's not grimdark. In fact I'd love it a lot more of it was more comedy-focused. Or at least light-hearted.

8. Buddy cop trope (they don't have to actually be cops).

9. My character communicates with sign language at least 50% of the time.

A poly relationship forms between a lycan (anthro wolf), werewolf (wolf/human shifter), and a [wolf or lycan -related] therian.
I don't have a good write up on this, but there's a brain vomit version with more details here.

I'd like to play the werewolf and/or lycan. The werewolf character, Zahir, is trying to basically be human. The lycan character is proud of their heritage but is trying to deal with some feelings of jealousy (due to Zahir's ability to be human passing) and overarching issues of culture death (Lycans are analogous to indigenous peoples). My lycan is also FtM but this only ever comes up if there is sex in the rp (which is not necessary).
I can change the Lycan character or not play them, but Zahir will probably remain the same.

This can really go in several directions. It can deal with the turmoil behind all the characters' personal issues, it can sidestep that and be a romcom, it could be a slice of life... etc.
My character, Lori, is stealing money in order to buy parts from your character, who he has a somewhat longstanding relationship with (as a customer of your [automail/magical objects/rare stuff] business). YC keeps upping the cost of [Part of the day] and it's driving Lori mad. YC offers Lori a deal. If Lori will help YC steal [Thing YC really wants] YC will give Lori [Part of the day]. Originally developed for the setting of the same name, but can also take place elsewhere.

"Lori Lentil. is that the name you go by these days?"

The man referenced could hardly be called such. Once human, he was now a varied assortment of red scaley dragon parts and mechanix. Red-tinted goggles covered his eyes, and his white "hair" was comprised of all feathers, a yellow scarf wrapped around his head in a pitiful attempt to hide it. Protruding out from his skull were two red horns, marking him as a dragonkin even though he had not been born such. His right arm was human and his left was automail. Both arms had been handcuffed together behind him, the back of a chair separating his arms from his his torso, which was clad in a bright red and gold vest that did fuckall of keeping him hidden from situations such as this.

Nevertheless, here he was, the scarf around his neck left dangling on the floor from its length, hopelessly entangled between his arms, making the situation that much more uncomfortable.

The man at the other side of the table Lori was forced to sit at was half mechanix himself. But unlike Lori, that man's mechanix were completely legal. Lori's were street-bought, one of the reasons he was here today.

"Funny," the other man, dressed in a black suit stated, "I would've thought you would be the talkative type."

It was then that Lori's huge, human mouth spread into a grin. His teeth were littered with plaque and stains, his breath stinking as he exhaled once. Then twice, a snort coming from him.
And he laughed.

"Why talk to you? You know me for all of five minutes!"

Lori threw himself backward, landing on his arms. Still laughing, of course. Lori wasn't immune to pain, but with his skin thicker than a normal human's, and half of his upper body being conveniently metal, it wasn't as if he had much pain to worry about.

Once he was on the ground, he kicked his right, and entirely dragon, foot up and into the table, shoving it into the other man. While the agent was pre-occupied with that, Lori's automail left hand began to heat up to a temperature hot enough to melt the handcuffs. In the process, he burned his human hand and melted part of his scarf, but hey, Lori was ready to take some losses.

After his arms were freed, he jumped up and roundhouse kicked the cop again with his dragon leg once more before running out of the room.
Lori wasn't in this to kill people, no. Just steal shit and run. The more he ran, the more fun the game became. It wasn't as if Lori kept a low profile. But then again, in a city of 300 million people, nobody really expected to be able to find anyone else very often.

Which was part of the reason, after Lori had punched out a window on the 50th floor, he turned around and stuck out his tongue before leaving.

"So long, suckers! Neh!"

And off he jumped, scarf flailing behind him.

Lori wasn't exactly the most mentally stable person on the planet.

Surrounded by fog, he began coughing. He hadn't expected to be blindsided by toxic air. Despite how confident he was in himself, he'd never jumped out of a building before. A brief moment of panic flushed to the forefront of his mind before he started digging in his satchel for some sort of.. Something.. so he could stop his fall. Perhaps he hadn't thought this completely through.
No he didn't, and now he was quickly falling to his death. Fuck.

Down below, he could see a fire escape. Screw it, he thought to himself, and reached out for it, grabbing the railing with his automail arm and hoping it'd break his fall. The stairwell instead unbuckled from the wall it had been attached to and ripped from the side of the building, but not before the joints in the mechanical arm pulled too taught and popped.

By this time, his fall was significantly slowing, and his chances of surviving were exponentially rising. However, he was quickly realizing he wasn't going to come out of this one unscathed.
His automail fingers still being able to grip, he threw himself at more and more iron pieces in hopes that one of them would prevent his body from splooging all over the pavement found at ground level.

The long story short is, it never did, and he wound up on his back with a totally gimp mechanix arm and a brutal headache with a very, very gnarled iron fire escape beside him.

Lori considered it a win!


After giving himself about five minutes to recover, he let out a swift exhalation and pushed any of the debris on top of him away from himself with his human hand. The police were going to exit the bottom of the building at any minute, and he needed to be out of here before then.

With a groan, he pushed himself up. Once he was standing, he bent back over to pick up the few credits that had evicted themselves from his satchel in order to occupy the ground. Placing them back where they belonged, in the several seconds that passed, he realized how truly annoying it was to only have the ability to use one arm. His left and mechanical one was limp at his side and would no longer respond. Not even the fingers.

He snorted and quickly ran off into the distance, covering the urban sprawl. The unevenness in his footing was just as annoying as his dead arm. Over the past several weeks, his right leg had been morphing from human to that of a dragon. The other day, he finally had become unable to wear a shoe. He'd been stealing credits in order to pay off his Mechanik for a new leg. His mechanik, however, happened to be somewhat of an asshole about the price of said limb.

But that was neither here nor there. Now he couldn't even get the leg. He had to repair the arm, first. So it should've come as no surprise that his next stop was the mechanik's door, banging on it with his human fist.

"Yo! Let me in before I kick it in for you!" Lori taunted.

He liked to joke. Of course who knew if anyone other then himself found his humor funny. But on top of that, he was a bit anxious. He didn't want to be on the streets right now. That anxiety inadvertently showed itself through his nonhuman, red and white fluffy ears. A bit like a rabbit's, they twitched and tilted toward every suspicious sound.

Lori hated them, but he couldn't deny they were superior to his previous human set. Even despite the red scales on his face leading up to them.

Using the Inner Demons setting as a springboard:
- A person (or demon hunter) is in the throes of a very slow possession of an upper level demon and enlists help of [another hunter / a "good" demon / something else]
(I can be the demon hunter or a "good" demon)

- We are Hellhounds and...
-- We're the last of our kind. One of our characters is the very last female and doesn't want to be a breeder
-- We're the last of our kind on a righteous hunt for the missing final female of our species, who wants nothing to do with us
-- Our numbers are slimming, but we're still policing the veil by killing metahumans. Until one of us has a change of heart...
-- A demon hunter learns he's part hellhound, and some demon comes around to try and recruit the hunter to their cause

- Metahuman x Hellhound love
- Demon hunter rivals (needs more than hunter vs. hunter)
- Human x Demon love
- Corrupted x person who wants to be corrupted
- Good cop goes bad (see next plot)
- There's probably more possibilities here...
Your character is a good cop. Crosses their T's, dots their I's, perfect record. But something goes down that s/he can't prove, or can't stand, or for some reason knows that law won't bring it to justice. Or maybe s/he witnesses something that makes them realize being a goodie two-shoes isn't the best path for themself.

So s/he decides to hire a mercenary (my character, most likely Q) to not only get rid of the problem and/or bring it to justice, but to hopefully also teach them "how to be bad". But s/he's been a good guy their whole life. S/he doesn't really know how to be bad, and changing their whole moral code can be difficult.

No smut, but romance possible. Any gender. Can be realistic or supernatural.
Powers-based setting. Someone who used to be a superhero lost their powers and became a detective for the Powers Division, a division of the PD that deals with superpower-related crimes. I can be the detective or a someone else (villian, mentor, partner cop, etc.), doesn't matter to me. Pairs nicely with Buddy cop trope but doesn't have to.
It's Dean and Cas from Supernatural, who pair up acting as FBI agents to investigate some big supernatural thing that's occurring. Except it's OCs instead of Dean and Cas. But the dynamics of Veteran vs "barely functional human(?)" remain the same. I can play either character. Inspired by this. Romance not guaranteed, smut discouraged. Can be combined with Powers Division and/or Inner Demons setting, but doesn't have to be.

The world has gone to shit and one of us has stolen (or invented) a time machine to make the world less shit. After careful deliberation and study, we have determined that the precise time the world went to shit was that fateful night we had our first sexy hookup. So all we have to do to make the world not shit is prevent the hookup (or some specific action during the hookup) from happening.

So, we go back in time... Only to find out... We've gone back in to just a couple seconds after the event! We will call this, EVENT 0, or E0, for short. We are now in the same room looking at our past selves fucking, and berating ourselves because how could we fuck this up?

"No matter!" one of us says. We will just go back in time again, to, you know, a couple seconds before E0, like we were originally supposed to. So we do.

Except we don't.

We have now arrived 2 seconds after our E0+1 selves have arrived to E0. Holy shit, there are now 3 current copies of us right now, and two of these copies are watching the original have sex.

There's got to be a way to fix this.

"Hit the button on the seismic reactor, which is definitely a real thing!" [skip to 9:38 if it doesn't already link there]

This plot was inspired by this.

[Note: "Bazinga" is just a nonsensical word. It has no real weight; I used it because I thought it was funny.]

One of us has stolen or invented a time machine to go back to the night when X dumped Y because damn that X/Y's an asshole and Y/X didn't know what they were missing from X/Y!!!
(for sake of simplicity we'll just say my character obtained the time machine for the rest of this explanation, but it could be either of us)

So I've got it in my head that I just need to impress you with my best sex practices, because everybody knows you'll change your mind about somebody after a good dicking. BAZINGA
BACK IN TIME to this precious moment, fuck off past me, you're a virgin asshole, time for current me to bring on the master dickings.

Except I tripped while trying to take off my pants, fell, and am now bleeding out from a seriously unlucky corner to the temple. Somehow with my last ounce of muscle I can....

Fuck off virgin old me, time to impress the lady/man, except holy shit, Y is part dolphin??

Fuck off past me, I am all on Y with the master dickings, because this time I made absolutely sure to get that gene splicing from the future first. Oh wait?? She's not a fan of barbed penises?

BAZINGA!! Fuck off past me, I can give Y the master dickings...............

Will bazinga guy ever actually have sex with Y?
Has fate cursed bazinga guy with bad luck with time machine sex?
Is there some nefarious time machine malfunction at work here?
Does Y somehow catch on to bazinga guy despite that being paradoxical and not making any sense?!
Is bazinga a 40 year old virgin or did someone actually have sex with him at one point in his life before he got a hold of the time machine?!?!

Inspired by this

This one is essentially an exercise in how to write the most outrageous, unbelievable things every time Bazinga guy goes back in time. Assume that each time he uses the time machine it is using an infinite improbability drive and has similar side effects.

We could accomplish this by rping normally (You control your own character) or by flipping it, where we each set the new setting for the other character to forcibly adapt. Alternatively, we could take turns with who decides what the next 'dimension' is like (maybe this one we're all starfish? Or maybe this one is like rl but Y gets an aneurysm right before Bazinga can stick it in!).

The main point is to make it funny and that sex never actually happens, but it gets close a few times.

I'm fairly laidback, but there are some things I am unwilling to do right now:

- Anything medieval
- Modern vampires
- Zombies
- Omegaverse
- Live birth of any kind
- My character falling in love with your character at first sight

Of course, none of these apply if you want to do parody. =]