- Invitation Status
- Look for groups
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- Multiple posts per week
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Nonbinary
- Transgender
- No Preferences
- Genres
- Fantasy, Romance, Adventure, Quest, Dystopian, Apocalypse, Modern, Sci-Fi, Steampunk
Original RP Prompts | Master Thread
Last Updated: 4/28/19
Found partners for most of these so I plan to close this thread soon
But before I do, I'd love to find someone to do the Windsor Awakening prompt!
MERAKI (A.) | Greek
The soul, creativity or love put into something; The essence of yourself that is put into your work.
Last Updated: 4/28/19
Found partners for most of these so I plan to close this thread soon
But before I do, I'd love to find someone to do the Windsor Awakening prompt!
MERAKI (A.) | Greek
The soul, creativity or love put into something; The essence of yourself that is put into your work.
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Hello, Starshine I hope you all are doing well! My name is Hannah, but most people online call me Hanns. I am an English Major who currently works at a IT Company in Colorado Springs. Oh, and in my free time, I love to create art and write roleplays! I've been roleplaying for about 9 years, but I've been writing stories and creating characters for as long as I could remember. All of the ideas and pairings in this thread is for original stories, as original material is what I love to write about the most. But I might set up a fandom document.
One of the wonderful things about roleplaying is that it's a chance to escape from reality, even if it is through words on a page. You create worlds and characters who love, who hate, who bleed and who can heal. You'll find I take my stories pretty seriously and I'm really hoping to find others who feel the same way!
I don't want to waste anyone's time as I'm sure you're here to roleplay! Thus, I'll try to make this document's rules and guidelines brief. I've got a table of contents set up below, for easy access and clean assortment. Let me know if I can answer any questions for you!
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I do consider myself to be a pretty lax writing when it comes to writing with other people involved, However I do have a few general rules that I like to follow when it comes to roleplaying.
- Be Nice and be Invested - Seriously inquiries only, please! The most important rule for me when it comes to roleplaying is that we're having fun and if you or I aren't excited about the roleplay, then it's going to be a real downer. So all I ask is for a partner who is friendly, invested and contributes to the story. If I feel like I have to step on eggshells around you or if I feel like I am having to do all the work, then you're not the person I am looking for. Note that this it's not first come, first serve!
- Quality over Quantity - My writing style is novella, meaning that I will write on average anywhere from four to eight paragraphs at a time. At the same time, I know some roleplayers write shorter responses and can still produce quality content. Thus, I don't want you to stress out over your length. As long as you are trying your best, that's all I can really ask for. I welcome all types of writers/roleplayers. But I feel like I should set up some sort of limit, so all I ask for as a bare minimum is one full paragraph.
- Respect my Rules Regarding Mature Content - I'm looking for all types of relationships - romantic, platonic, family, friends, enemies, and everything in between! That being said, I don't mind smut as long as its tastefully done and and fits within the plot. It should evolve naturally and it has to be consensual - rape can be mentioned or used in a backstory, but I will never act it out. Both parties have to be consenting adults and I will never do incest or underage sex. Overall, our stories must be story based, not smut based.
- Good Grammar is a Plus - I am by no means a grammar nazi. I make plenty of spelling mistakes, so you don't have to worry about me correcting you! All I ask is that you roleplay in third person and that you are trying your best when it comes to grammar.
- Character Sheets and World Building - Not really something mandatory, but I figured I add this just to tell everyone my own preferences/opinions. I personally prefer character sheets and character mood boards, but I'm definitely not going to make you do one! But I would like to world build a bit first before we hop in. Honestly, I could talk about characters or world building all day so if that isn't really your thing I don't think we'd get along as partners.
- Multiple Characters - Now, I can't really force this one. I understand that some people prefer roleplay one or two characters and that's totally fine. But for me, I really enjoy when multiple personalities, backstories and motivations come together to shape the plot into something interesting. Don't get me wrong, I get the importance of main protagonists. But think of your favorite books, movies and games - many of them don't have just one character, right? So while this one is more of a preference than a rule, I'd really like to have a partner who can write several characters appropriately.
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Writing Samples & Roleplay Examples
Below, I have provided some writing samples that I think best exemplify my writing style. If you are able to send a writing sample, you'd be my best friend! I always ask just because it really helps me gage your writing. Honestly, anything that lets me know what your length preference is as well as your writing style. It's not mandatory, but it will help me a lot! Writing Samples & Roleplay Examples
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The door opened without a sound. As if the maiden's invitation were already expected. And already welcomed. But the Wolf did not follow her inside - his paws rested at the threshold of the forest clearing, where the shadows' edge met the sunlight. He need not go any further. He need not burn within the light of the sun.
Among the scent of the old willow wood, the most curious of smells were enclosed within the small willow hovel - their scents finally freed by the opening of the large door. Sweet, soft jasmine petals mingled with the firm, crimson essence of elderberry wine. Cinnamon, hot and seasoned, prickled with tart lemon and mingled slowly with slow dew of fresh honey. And all around these wonder auras, the glow of dancing candle light within tiny lanterns were scattered all over the tiny, single bungalow.
Crystal vials and rose glass bottles were lined up as far as the eye could see - made up of all sorts of wonderful colors and hues, that glowed and twinkled at the candle's glow. Their caps were tied in silk ribbons or tiny hemp cords, with labels written in a beautiful black ink. Between these marvelous creations, opalescent crystals and the tiniest of gems scattered about the wooden shelves, keeping company with the delicately tied bundles of wild flowers. All about was clutter - but it was a witch's clutter. Up upon the window's bannister, a sandy coon cat was cleaning her paws against her sharp, white whiskers. On a nearby shelf, a cat as white as a winter's frost reclined between two large bottles of a clear, sparkling potion - his tail twitching this way and that as yellow eyes lazily turned to gaze upon the hovel's latest visitor.
'O' willow waly' by the tree that weeps with me.
'O' willow waly' till my lover return to me."
A voice came from the hearth, where the fireplace crackled and popped - the cauldron's skillet bubbling with a delicious smell of fresh buttered cornbread and a sizzling stew. Someone was bent over the cauldron, stirring the pot softly with a wooden ladle. A dog, with a wiry snout and scruffy ears, laid at her bare feet - raising its head to stare with beady, inquisitive eyes at the maiden.
"We lay my love and I beneath the Weeping Willow.
But now alone I lie and weep beside the tree."
Singing O' willow waly' by the tree that weeps with me.
Singing O' willow waly' till my lover returns to me."
Her hair was as red as a rising fire - redder than the crimson leaves of the fall forest. Loose curls, tied up in a messy bun that looked as if it were ready to unfurl itself. Her cheeks were rosy and her lips were soft and thin and blushed in a tulip pink. She tapped the ladle before cleaning her hands with the end of her ivory apron.The dog's tail thudded against the wooden floor as his realized that the maiden in the doorway was, indeed, a guest. He rose from the feet of his master, brushing the ends of her skirts as the beast trotted over to greet the strange traveler. A cold wet nose nudged against her hand, his ears floppy about as the dog requested a pat on the head - his stubbed tail wriggling about.
"Oh! Another visitor. Welcome, welcome to my apothecary." The lady with the red curls had turned to face her now - the glow of the fire's hearth dancing about her ivory skin and rosy cheeks. "And what is it you need, traveler? A healing ointment? Perhaps some peppermint to freshen up?" She tucked a few strands of wild fire strands behind her ear as she surveyed her newest visitor. It would appear, based on the maiden's appearance, she was a peasant from the village. Perhaps a beggar, looking for a single ounce of kindness to last through the night. The poor child.
"Oh my. You must have come a long way to get here, haven't you." Her voice was kind. Yet, buoyant. Full of spirit. Her face and her voice were youthful, but her eyes were old. An elder's - blue and clear perhaps, but ancient. Perhaps, even wise. And they were not swayed by the maiden's haggard appearance. "Well, you are just in time for supper. Come, sit, sit!"
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When Milo found his way back to Chartier, he found Ivan sitting by himself. The blonde man had his head propped against his hand, elbow resting on the small, round cafe table that contained nothing else but a half-finished drink. Milo took the seat in front of him, expression unchanging even when the other man made his irritation plain.
"You're blocking the view, brother." Ivan had been making eyes at a middle-aged woman a few tables away. She had a lovely pearl necklace, and a set of matching earrings. He could think of more than one way to take them off of her.
"I have a job for you."
"You know, it's really only a job if I get paid." He rolled his eyes.
"You will. Handsomely. My employer will see to it himself."
Ivan scoffed at the remark, but Milo had succeeded in getting his attention. "I have no use for riches." The man waved his hand in dismissal. At a thought, the bored look on his face became undone. Instead, an impish smile took over. "You know, I will do anything for a title. Duke Marchand has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"
Milo shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to contain his frustration. "Do me a favor before I discuss the details with you."
"Anything for my dear brother."
In reluctance or in contemplation, Milo took a deep breath before he found the will to respond. His head turned towards the stage, dark eyes transfixed by the woman with the sultry voice. "Get me a private meeting with Tanja Marković."
At this, the younger man burst into tiny fits of laughter. "I haven't had too much to drink, have I?" Ivan lifted his drink, swirling the contents. "So your parts are functional, after all. I just lost three different wagers." Ivan raised his hand to beckon a waiter over. "Would you be a dear, and give the lovely lady over there a glass of your Chardonnay Icewine?" He gestured towards Tanja. 'Tell her Ivan misses her. You can put it on my friend's tab."
Milo said nothing, only threatened Ivan with a sharp glower.
"Actually, if you could bring the rest of the bottle here for us to drink, that would be lovely." Ivan handed the waiter his half-empty glass. "I've had enough of this cheap swill."
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It was as if the door was an opening to another world – the color and the warmth of the sum washed away the dreary motel room the pair stepped outside, Mr. Frost locking the door behind them. The explosion of colors and sounds was overwhelming.
On either side of the street stood tall, old, beautiful buildings – apartments and motels as far as the eye could see, decorated with blue canopies and in green plants that lay nestled upon the high balconies. Tall street lamps guarded the paved cobblestone paths, their soft glow still welcoming within the soft morning hours. The streets were quiet, except for the birds hopping about the high tree tops and the sound of a distance and a motorcycle roaring to life in the far distance.
With Layla in hand, Mr. Frost lead her down the sidewalk and onto the large cobblestone pathway. It was still early in the morning. Not many people were out yet. Good. The last thing he needed were too many prying eyes.
"This way, dear." He turned a sharp corner, down a narrow ally way before descending a cobblestone stairway that took them between the buildings and towards another cobblestone pathway. Several pigeons hooted at them, taking flight into the treetops as they passed.
On one side of the street, the pair was welcomed to a large and lush park. Short stone walls wrapped around lush green grass, with trimmed bushes and flowers so colorful and pristine. Deep within the center of the small park was a pond, where several small ducks flittered about in the crystal waters that reflected amber from the rising sun. Several trees line the pond in unison, however one oak tree at the end of the line seemed to tower over the rest – its acorns were huge and its leaves even bigger. Sweet was its smell, its sap speckled about its trunk in small, crystal specks. On the other side of the street were shops as far as the eyes could see. Their wordings were writing strangely, in a language other than English. But their letters in golden and white cursive were beautiful upon the multi colored canopies.
Oh, but the smell! Fresh croissants pastries and strong, dark coffee swelled together with the milk chocolate éclairs and lemon scented cakes. In one bakery window, a short, stubby man in a white vest was setting out fresh French bread in baskets in the window display. Another small shop down the street had lined up powered treats and jammed pastries upon their window display. Against the wall of the small shop, a fluffy dog with cropped ears slept only raising its head to stare at the pair as they walked by.
Mr. Frost lead Layla to one of the small shop, with a green canopy with gold letters, at the end of the line at the corner – The little cafe was surrounded by a black fence where several small tables and chairs sat under a emerald green canopy. A small blackboard was written upon with white cursive right in front of the glass doorway.
"Where would you like to sit, Layla?" Mr. Frost asked, "Would you like to sit inside or sit outside?"
_____~**~_____
Table of Contents (Original Roleplay Prompts)
You're going to find out that I put a lot of description, love and care within the stories I make. These prompts are very close to my heart so I'd love to find someone who can enjoy them too! I firmly believe that stories can have multiple genres and most of my prompts do as well. There is the central genre that shapes the story the largest, which eventually opens the door to other genres as well. I hope this helps with some of the confusion! Some prompts may be closed due to it already having a partner or even to the fact that it's something I'm not craving at the moment. Note that these are just prompts. They can be re-written to fit our own needs. So if you have an idea or a craving, don't hesitate to ask me! I may say no but I may be able to work something out. You never know until you ask! Table of Contents (Original Roleplay Prompts)
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Genres: Adventure/Quest, Dystopia, Historical Fiction(?)
Pairing(s): Optional (Something we can discuss, I'm flexible!)
Author Notes: I put Historical Fiction (?) because it is inspired by 1930s-1940s Europe, however we don't have to exactly follow those time periods if that makes sense. We can discuss it! I'm definitely looking for someone who is ok with playing/managing multiple characters. I will probably use multiple characters myself.
The small country of Ghanivia has just closed a bloody chapter in their history - a civil war between their centuries old monarchy and a fledging multiple party union. With the throws of war over, the winning monarchy sought to rebuild this small republic back to it's former glory. But that was before a radical fascist party known as The Black Mamba seized control when Ghanivia was at its weakest point and still recovering from war.
Their leader Josef Windsor is cruel and ruthless and, after overseeing the assassination the the royal family, initiates the construction of a new nation state where fascism can fester. Medical institutes are established to 'rehabilitate' those who cannot conform. Prison camps are on the rise and fascist tabloids spin rumors to blind the public to the true sinister nature of the Black Mamba. Those who still support the monarchy are executed. Those who cannot conform are condemned as criminals. On this war path, Ghanivia will become a totalitarian state.
But two years after the Black Mamba rose to power, rumors have begun to spread of a child from a backwater mountain town who is said to possess the the fire of life and is believed to have the power to bring the dead back to the land of the living. And now, she's been captured by the Black Mamba, who is trying to bring the assassinated Josef Windsor back to life so that the fascist that solidify their hold permanently.
The country's sole surviving monarch, who now runs a successful underground gambling ring to fund an uprising against the dictatorship, assembles a team of outcasts (mercenaries, criminals, spies, ex-military, supporters, etc.) and will pay them by whatever means to find the girl. The task is simple. Smuggle the girl out of the country and in the process, ensure that one of the century's most bloodthirsty dictators stays six feet under.
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