S
SpiritMasque
Guest
Original poster
Hello! Thanks for dropping by my thread! What I'm hoping to find are people who enjoy RPing as much as I do. It's something I've loved from the moment I discovered it. I have a blog set up here you can also check out, though it'll mostly have the same info I'll be posting here (the main difference might be some writing samples).
About Me/What I'm Looking For
The biggest thing to know is I'm very open to communication! If you want to just chat, let me know! From hashing out lots of details or just having a simple starting point, to tossing back and forth suggestions for plot ideas as we go along, I love to communicate! It's what helps the story gain personality as time goes on. Hell, sometimes it can be fun to just start sharing songs we thought fits a character or something.
Since some people like to know the vague age of their RP partners, I'll let you know I'm in my mid-twenties. I write a wide variety of genres, from silly to mature. I'm comfortable with most topics, though like to make sure nothing that could come up will bother my partner. For example, I have a minor phobia of injection needles, so I try not to go into details with them, ahaha. I'm okay with most violence/etc, but don't get too graphic with it, depending on the scenario. As far as romance goes, it really depends on the RP, characters, and the 'vibe' I have with someone.
I try to reply to things every other day (more if I'm online at the time!), and do my best to let someone know if I'll be off for a bit. If by chance we start RPing and you're just not feeling it, it's okay to let me know! We can always try mixing things up, or a different idea entirely. Or, if you just think you need a break, that's okay, too. If I don't hear from you in a week, I might give you a poke or two, but I ultimately won't chase you down.
Personally I consider myself fairly literate, and on average give at least 1-2 paragraph responses (moreso during action or dialogue-heavy spots), often more (usually in intros or descriptive spots). Spelling and punctuation mistakes can happen to anyone, so it's only really an issue if it's constantly happening. The only thing I am kinda of a stickler for is making sure you use paragraphs/don't clump everything in one block; makes it hard to read/difficult for me to follow. (For example, the kind of paragraphs I have here.)
I write in third person point-of-view, and tend to prefer the same in return. If you want to use pictures to help your descriptions, sure! Or if you like using images to help give a little sparkle to environments, that can be fun. I tend to prefer descriptive intros over list-ones and don't usually have photos for my characters, but if you're really more comfortable with those/want to use them yourself, we can work it all out!
I can write male and female characters (heck I sometimes prefer male), and enjoy any sort of pairings. I have some experience writing non-binary/fluid/etc roles. Playing multiple characters is cool, too, either as main ones or little side-people to help flesh out the world. Usually I focus on the primary ones, but like I said, extras can give the story more oomph!
Settings
I guess there are sort've a couple basics that cover most things. And, of course, they can be mixed-and-matched!
-Fantasy (one of my favourite elements!)
-Sci-fi/Futuristic (sometimes I'm a little shaky with this one, I don't do it often)
When mixed with the two above;
-Medieval/Past (if there's a certain time-period you like, let me know!)
-Modern
-Futuristic
I don't mind high-school/school any setting, but I prefer that it's not the main focus of everything/things happen outside. 'Cause like real life, there are things beyond school buildings!
Update: I don't really do fandom RPs. I sometimes use the world of a movie/game/etc, but not often.
Plot Ideas
Hmm, some ideas/plot suggestions tend to be based around pairings, but there are so many combinations. I'm just going to throw a few plot concepts out there. I'll possibly add to this over time. Some will probably be more detailed than others.
Most of my ideas do center around some sort of fantasy setting, just a heads-up. And as I mentioned above, I can certainly be multiple people, be either male or female, and I enjoy any sort of pairings. Or, if you're not up for romance, we don't have to include it (though I am a sucker for it).
If one of my vague ideas piques your interest, and you have an idea to add to it/modify it, that's welcome too! Some of these are just a little outline, others I have opening ideas for/sample writing, all that can obviously be modified.
Update:
I've made notes of any plots/ideas that are open, or I'm not looking for another.
For those skimming and wanting to see which ones are available right off the bat;
Thank-you for sticking through my ramblings! If you're at all interested in RPing, just fire me off a message, or reply to me here!
About Me/What I'm Looking For
The biggest thing to know is I'm very open to communication! If you want to just chat, let me know! From hashing out lots of details or just having a simple starting point, to tossing back and forth suggestions for plot ideas as we go along, I love to communicate! It's what helps the story gain personality as time goes on. Hell, sometimes it can be fun to just start sharing songs we thought fits a character or something.
Since some people like to know the vague age of their RP partners, I'll let you know I'm in my mid-twenties. I write a wide variety of genres, from silly to mature. I'm comfortable with most topics, though like to make sure nothing that could come up will bother my partner. For example, I have a minor phobia of injection needles, so I try not to go into details with them, ahaha. I'm okay with most violence/etc, but don't get too graphic with it, depending on the scenario. As far as romance goes, it really depends on the RP, characters, and the 'vibe' I have with someone.
I try to reply to things every other day (more if I'm online at the time!), and do my best to let someone know if I'll be off for a bit. If by chance we start RPing and you're just not feeling it, it's okay to let me know! We can always try mixing things up, or a different idea entirely. Or, if you just think you need a break, that's okay, too. If I don't hear from you in a week, I might give you a poke or two, but I ultimately won't chase you down.
Personally I consider myself fairly literate, and on average give at least 1-2 paragraph responses (moreso during action or dialogue-heavy spots), often more (usually in intros or descriptive spots). Spelling and punctuation mistakes can happen to anyone, so it's only really an issue if it's constantly happening. The only thing I am kinda of a stickler for is making sure you use paragraphs/don't clump everything in one block; makes it hard to read/difficult for me to follow. (For example, the kind of paragraphs I have here.)
I write in third person point-of-view, and tend to prefer the same in return. If you want to use pictures to help your descriptions, sure! Or if you like using images to help give a little sparkle to environments, that can be fun. I tend to prefer descriptive intros over list-ones and don't usually have photos for my characters, but if you're really more comfortable with those/want to use them yourself, we can work it all out!
I can write male and female characters (heck I sometimes prefer male), and enjoy any sort of pairings. I have some experience writing non-binary/fluid/etc roles. Playing multiple characters is cool, too, either as main ones or little side-people to help flesh out the world. Usually I focus on the primary ones, but like I said, extras can give the story more oomph!
Settings
I guess there are sort've a couple basics that cover most things. And, of course, they can be mixed-and-matched!
-Fantasy (one of my favourite elements!)
-Sci-fi/Futuristic (sometimes I'm a little shaky with this one, I don't do it often)
When mixed with the two above;
-Medieval/Past (if there's a certain time-period you like, let me know!)
-Modern
-Futuristic
I don't mind high-school/school any setting, but I prefer that it's not the main focus of everything/things happen outside. 'Cause like real life, there are things beyond school buildings!
Update: I don't really do fandom RPs. I sometimes use the world of a movie/game/etc, but not often.
Plot Ideas
Hmm, some ideas/plot suggestions tend to be based around pairings, but there are so many combinations. I'm just going to throw a few plot concepts out there. I'll possibly add to this over time. Some will probably be more detailed than others.
Most of my ideas do center around some sort of fantasy setting, just a heads-up. And as I mentioned above, I can certainly be multiple people, be either male or female, and I enjoy any sort of pairings. Or, if you're not up for romance, we don't have to include it (though I am a sucker for it).
If one of my vague ideas piques your interest, and you have an idea to add to it/modify it, that's welcome too! Some of these are just a little outline, others I have opening ideas for/sample writing, all that can obviously be modified.
Update:
I've made notes of any plots/ideas that are open, or I'm not looking for another.
For those skimming and wanting to see which ones are available right off the bat;
- After
- Art Coming to Life
- Kings
- Midnight Waters
- Seasons
- The Tower
- Thief of Thieves
- Void
- Wild Wizard
After
(Still open)
Art Coming to Life
(Still open)
Invisible Company
(Have a possibility in the works, not looking for another at this moment)
Kings
(Still open)
Midnight Waters
(Still open)
Seasons
(Still open)
Sentenced
(Currently have one in the works, not looking for another at this moment)
Salvage Station
(Have a possibility in the works, not looking for another at this moment)
The Fighting Pits
(Have one plus another potential in the works, not looking for another at this moment)
The Tower
(Still open)
The Wonder Lands
(Have a potential in the works, not looking for another at this moment)
Thief of Thieves
(Still open)
Void
(Still open, hoping to find someone for)
Wild Wizard
(Still open)
(Still open)
At first, the lines sweeping up the smooth mountainside were assumed to be part of old artwork. Long ago the rock had been cut open during an earthquake, and due to the unstable ground as a result of the damage, it had been left alone. When the rubble has been gradually cleared, the stone used for quarries, the designs had been found. The runes were in an unfamiliar script, the large frame only that- an empty frame. Until someone attempted to see if the markings could be activated with magic.
Upon being triggered, a mirror-surface overtook the design. It created a gateway to another world. More wild and untamed, there were creatures both familiar and unfamiliar. Just beyond the door was a large platform, branching from a smaller mountain, with thick jungle and woodlands spreading out in all directions. Deep crevices weaved all throughout the landscape, heavy fog pooling within them and faint sounds of distant water even lower than the mist. No one knew how far the rolling land stretched before the forest and rocky terrain would end, thanks to heavy cloud-cover that frequently swept across the skies.
While there were dangers in the local wildlife, the stunning discovery was the dragons. Seeming to grow no bigger than large wild dogs or cats, they acted with cunning wits, but animalistic nonetheless. As scientists and miners settled in to study and gather resources, a letter was sent to out to inform others of the discovery, to encourage others to begin their own research.
A second letter was sent soon after the first. This new realm carried a very dangerous, natural threat. Sundown did not occur at set times- instead, it varied within a large, five-hour window. Normally, working in the dark would not be a problem for any of the workers, least of all the miners, especially when lights were set up. The problem came from a phenomenon the researchers dubbed as 'After'.
With the setting of the sun, a wave of air would sweep over the land. The feeling it carried was heavy and oppressive. Under this After, the area would mutate. Trees and stone would begin to replenish itself, as if it was alive. And animals from their side of the portal, if they had crossed, would warp and change, starting to resemble the dangerous beasts native to the landscape. Even some animals on the other side would vanish before this would occur, managing to serve as a small warning when the sun would be setting.
Any living being, human or any other race, caught during the After would began to mutate the way the animals did. If they crossed the gateway anytime after sundown, they would become ill and weak, slowly succumbing to the change that way. The only chance of saving them was getting them back on the proper side of the gate as fast as possible. There were safe-pockets, but the ability to find and reach one in time was questionable at best. It was simply better not to be caught.
A few races insisted on sending in teams to search as far and as fast as they could before the sun would fall, desperate to find answers. They did not want to give up this seemingly endless resource. It was when this stage of research began, yet another obstacle was encountered.
Thus was the plea of the third letter was plastered before the public's eye, asking for people to help, to figure out what to do.
They had found a dragon that could survive the After. And it wanted them out.
Upon being triggered, a mirror-surface overtook the design. It created a gateway to another world. More wild and untamed, there were creatures both familiar and unfamiliar. Just beyond the door was a large platform, branching from a smaller mountain, with thick jungle and woodlands spreading out in all directions. Deep crevices weaved all throughout the landscape, heavy fog pooling within them and faint sounds of distant water even lower than the mist. No one knew how far the rolling land stretched before the forest and rocky terrain would end, thanks to heavy cloud-cover that frequently swept across the skies.
While there were dangers in the local wildlife, the stunning discovery was the dragons. Seeming to grow no bigger than large wild dogs or cats, they acted with cunning wits, but animalistic nonetheless. As scientists and miners settled in to study and gather resources, a letter was sent to out to inform others of the discovery, to encourage others to begin their own research.
A second letter was sent soon after the first. This new realm carried a very dangerous, natural threat. Sundown did not occur at set times- instead, it varied within a large, five-hour window. Normally, working in the dark would not be a problem for any of the workers, least of all the miners, especially when lights were set up. The problem came from a phenomenon the researchers dubbed as 'After'.
With the setting of the sun, a wave of air would sweep over the land. The feeling it carried was heavy and oppressive. Under this After, the area would mutate. Trees and stone would begin to replenish itself, as if it was alive. And animals from their side of the portal, if they had crossed, would warp and change, starting to resemble the dangerous beasts native to the landscape. Even some animals on the other side would vanish before this would occur, managing to serve as a small warning when the sun would be setting.
Any living being, human or any other race, caught during the After would began to mutate the way the animals did. If they crossed the gateway anytime after sundown, they would become ill and weak, slowly succumbing to the change that way. The only chance of saving them was getting them back on the proper side of the gate as fast as possible. There were safe-pockets, but the ability to find and reach one in time was questionable at best. It was simply better not to be caught.
A few races insisted on sending in teams to search as far and as fast as they could before the sun would fall, desperate to find answers. They did not want to give up this seemingly endless resource. It was when this stage of research began, yet another obstacle was encountered.
Thus was the plea of the third letter was plastered before the public's eye, asking for people to help, to figure out what to do.
They had found a dragon that could survive the After. And it wanted them out.
Art Coming to Life
(Still open)
An artist discovers the sketches they've been making of one figure have started to move! Before long, the person is talking and creating some of their own backgrounds. Is it real, or is the artist hallucinating?
(I lean towards wanting to play the sketched-person in this, but I'm fine either way. This would probably be a more light-hearted, slice of life kind of thing.)
(I lean towards wanting to play the sketched-person in this, but I'm fine either way. This would probably be a more light-hearted, slice of life kind of thing.)
Invisible Company
(Have a possibility in the works, not looking for another at this moment)
After stumbling across something they probably shouldn't have (be it a ceremony, some religious cult, a book in a library), they now find a figure following them around. No one else can see them, and it's unclear if they mean any harm or not…
(I'm fine being either role, though if I do lean towards being the summoned being.)
The tall, Victorian-themed windows stretching across one of the library's walls allowed the last of the light into the area. The days were slowly becoming shorter as the school terms progressed, going through the yearly cycle. Clouds were slowly gathering in the sky, hinting at the rain that could be expected overnight. The electronic overhead lights and faux-lamps struggled to light up the rows of books. Some shelves had gaping holes were books were missing, or had been taken down to be replaced. At the right angle, they provided bizarre shadows.
There were some rows less traveled, back in the sections considered to only belong to English majors. The fictional and fantasy stories, mythology and faerie tales. At the end of one long shelf, the labels of the decimal system were rubbed down and faded. A newer label, with a more practical yet too broad 'Fiction' was posted above them. A lamp, fashioned to look like an old candle-holder, was mounted on the nearby wall. One of the five bulbs flickered, sputtered, then went dead. Two more followed suit. The remaining pair decided not to go in silence, and emitted a sharp pop as they burnt out.
In the new shadow the absence of light created, something shifted. A small shape rolled across the hard floor. A misty substance, curling up the bookshelf. Reaching a shelf at head-height, it slipped into the rows of books. Now there was a rustling of pages, moving in a faint chorus as it traveled down the line.
When it reached the larger tomes, the rustling stopped. The heavier covers had more traditional binding, some even with imitation leather that had the titles stamped into them. A low thump, like someone dropping their palm onto a table. Some of the books jiggled in place. Another thump, and one slid forwards slightly. Its spine hung over the edge of the shelf, not enough to make it fall, but just enough to taunt gravity into making it do so.
A sound came from behind the shelf, despite the fact it was pressed firmly to the wall. Rather like a faint, considering hum. Then, with no other preamble, the book was shoved into the open air and crashed to the ground. The crack of its impact echoed down the empty aisles. From where it had once rested, the misty substance twisted. For a second, it looked like an insubstantial hand. Then it was gone, and the air was still once more.
(I'm fine being either role, though if I do lean towards being the summoned being.)
The tall, Victorian-themed windows stretching across one of the library's walls allowed the last of the light into the area. The days were slowly becoming shorter as the school terms progressed, going through the yearly cycle. Clouds were slowly gathering in the sky, hinting at the rain that could be expected overnight. The electronic overhead lights and faux-lamps struggled to light up the rows of books. Some shelves had gaping holes were books were missing, or had been taken down to be replaced. At the right angle, they provided bizarre shadows.
There were some rows less traveled, back in the sections considered to only belong to English majors. The fictional and fantasy stories, mythology and faerie tales. At the end of one long shelf, the labels of the decimal system were rubbed down and faded. A newer label, with a more practical yet too broad 'Fiction' was posted above them. A lamp, fashioned to look like an old candle-holder, was mounted on the nearby wall. One of the five bulbs flickered, sputtered, then went dead. Two more followed suit. The remaining pair decided not to go in silence, and emitted a sharp pop as they burnt out.
In the new shadow the absence of light created, something shifted. A small shape rolled across the hard floor. A misty substance, curling up the bookshelf. Reaching a shelf at head-height, it slipped into the rows of books. Now there was a rustling of pages, moving in a faint chorus as it traveled down the line.
When it reached the larger tomes, the rustling stopped. The heavier covers had more traditional binding, some even with imitation leather that had the titles stamped into them. A low thump, like someone dropping their palm onto a table. Some of the books jiggled in place. Another thump, and one slid forwards slightly. Its spine hung over the edge of the shelf, not enough to make it fall, but just enough to taunt gravity into making it do so.
A sound came from behind the shelf, despite the fact it was pressed firmly to the wall. Rather like a faint, considering hum. Then, with no other preamble, the book was shoved into the open air and crashed to the ground. The crack of its impact echoed down the empty aisles. From where it had once rested, the misty substance twisted. For a second, it looked like an insubstantial hand. Then it was gone, and the air was still once more.
Kings
(Still open)
The Keep had been built long before the town. Jutting partially from the looming mountain, the large structure had been partially bleached from years of being exposed to the sun. Trees and shrubs peeked out of several small gardens. Windows were carved out of sections of the mountain-side, where inner rooms were tucked safely away. Wide, steep steps led up to a small plateau at the front of the Keep, where two statues of genderless warriors were supporting large horns. From them, a stone bridge connected to the Keep's main doors. They were heavy affairs, and were currently closed.
It was only when there were Kings that they were kept ajar for the public.
Long ago, several individuals of remarkable power had come together under a single idea- to protect. Their unique abilities granted them a chance to be peace-keepers, mediators, and, if needed, the means to end a conflict before it grew out of hand. They referred to themselves as 'Kings', regardless of sex, and it was they who built the Keep. One day, they knew they would pass on, but wished to allow others a chance to receive their power. So they created a room, filled with special orbs known as the King Orbs.
But one King saw that there were those who feared them. What if these powerful beings turned on one another, or the populace? This King sought an answer. In doing so, they changed themselves, and elevated to another role entirely. They became the first Gold King. They were the one to reign in the others. This position would not always be needed; only when there were many Kings at once. However, could the Gold King become a danger? The answer was yes. So as, one by one, the first Kings died, the Gold King knew they needed another layer of protection.
They appointed a Guardian of the Keep, who would carry the task of needing to stop the Gold King if they ever became a tyrant. Whenever a new one appeared, they were to teach and guide them. This Guardian would oversee the new Kings, who would feel the pull of the Orbs that had multiplied over the years. They would observe and test each one.
Within the Keep, someone was waiting. Sitting in one of the protected gardens, they were listening to the quiet sounds of the wind. He had already been within the Orb room that day, and had counted which ones had begun to glow. He had already observed that one Orb in particular was beginning to resonate.
Leaning back on the bench, the towering form of the Guardian looked skywards with a slow breath. He smiled. It had been far too long since there had last been Kings.
It was only when there were Kings that they were kept ajar for the public.
Long ago, several individuals of remarkable power had come together under a single idea- to protect. Their unique abilities granted them a chance to be peace-keepers, mediators, and, if needed, the means to end a conflict before it grew out of hand. They referred to themselves as 'Kings', regardless of sex, and it was they who built the Keep. One day, they knew they would pass on, but wished to allow others a chance to receive their power. So they created a room, filled with special orbs known as the King Orbs.
But one King saw that there were those who feared them. What if these powerful beings turned on one another, or the populace? This King sought an answer. In doing so, they changed themselves, and elevated to another role entirely. They became the first Gold King. They were the one to reign in the others. This position would not always be needed; only when there were many Kings at once. However, could the Gold King become a danger? The answer was yes. So as, one by one, the first Kings died, the Gold King knew they needed another layer of protection.
They appointed a Guardian of the Keep, who would carry the task of needing to stop the Gold King if they ever became a tyrant. Whenever a new one appeared, they were to teach and guide them. This Guardian would oversee the new Kings, who would feel the pull of the Orbs that had multiplied over the years. They would observe and test each one.
Within the Keep, someone was waiting. Sitting in one of the protected gardens, they were listening to the quiet sounds of the wind. He had already been within the Orb room that day, and had counted which ones had begun to glow. He had already observed that one Orb in particular was beginning to resonate.
Leaning back on the bench, the towering form of the Guardian looked skywards with a slow breath. He smiled. It had been far too long since there had last been Kings.
Midnight Waters
(Still open)
All resorts like to have a theme to lure people in. This particular seaside one has stories galore about fantastic sea-life, Merpeople featuring the most. The popular one is about swimming out to a group of rocks at midnight, where they're said to come up.
(I lean towards a Merperson in this, but can be the human as well. The only thing I'm leery about is having the Merperson being confirmed as one right away- a little skepticism is always good. Another one that could be a bit more light-hearted.)
(I lean towards a Merperson in this, but can be the human as well. The only thing I'm leery about is having the Merperson being confirmed as one right away- a little skepticism is always good. Another one that could be a bit more light-hearted.)
Seasons
(Still open)
(More of a medieval/past setting, but can be tweaked.) In a world where the land is almost divided by permanent seasons, the most populated are Spring and Summer, with Fall close behind. Winter is all but silent. However, it also stands as a gateway to prevent darker creatures of the world from sneaking in -or out- to the rest. When attacks are becoming more frequent, whispers that Winter has betrayed the rest begins. Representatives from the other lands are sent into the harsh world, hoping to find out what has happened to the lone ruler, and why the gates have failed.
(Being multiple characters in this one is a given for me, for a couple different reasons. One is that one of my 'main' characters wouldn't be brought into play until later in the RP. I'm hoping to find someone who'd like to be one of the representatives/rulers from Spring, Summer and/or Fall -like one of my other characters- as they embark on this journey.)
As far back as anyone could remember, there had always been borders that marked where the seasons were no longer changing, but permanent. For the majority of the realm, from humans to elves to the fae, they primarily lived where the cycle carried on from Spring to Summer to Fall to Winter and back again.
However, there were areas that these were lasting fixtures. The Summer Lands, the largest, stayed warm and plentiful in their crops, trading throughout the year to help those in their cooler times. The Spring Lands, full of colorful and newly-awakened life, had the freshest waters to be found. The Fall Lands had their own colors and vegetation, also acting as a spiritual place for those seeking to find solace and knowledge.
It was in the Winter Lands, however, there was little movement. There were only a handful of villages on the very edges of the cold habitat; hunters and travelers, scholars and artists. But these people would often retreat to the other lands, leaving only the more magical beings to flit through the snow and ice, often solitary in nature. Much like the lone ruler who was said to live in the heart of the cold.
There were often talks at the great council, a gathering of representative from each seasonal land as well as the center, of why they allowed Winter to continue. Didn't the barren season carry risks of death, loss of life? But some could argue Summer's heat and Spring's rains could cause just as many problems. It was Fall, the closest to the borders of Winter, who would calmly remind the others of the importance of the cycle between the seasons, as well as the other role the Winter Lands played.
Dark creatures prowled the borders. Long ago they had once stampeded across all of the lands before being driven into Winter's embrace. The Winter ruler acted as a guardian, protecting everyone else. Through this balance, Winter continued alongside the other seasons, despite never appearing at the council gatherings, and never having a representative.
This year was different. More and more creatures had been spotted on the edges of Winter. Too many had been found leaving, entering other lands. Some were worried Winter had betrayed them. Others wondered if a new threat had been found. The council was to be filled to the brim, hosted in the center lands, where the seasons changed, as neutral ground. It was here, they would discuss what would be done…
And who would be sent into the cold to see what was wrong.
(Being multiple characters in this one is a given for me, for a couple different reasons. One is that one of my 'main' characters wouldn't be brought into play until later in the RP. I'm hoping to find someone who'd like to be one of the representatives/rulers from Spring, Summer and/or Fall -like one of my other characters- as they embark on this journey.)
As far back as anyone could remember, there had always been borders that marked where the seasons were no longer changing, but permanent. For the majority of the realm, from humans to elves to the fae, they primarily lived where the cycle carried on from Spring to Summer to Fall to Winter and back again.
However, there were areas that these were lasting fixtures. The Summer Lands, the largest, stayed warm and plentiful in their crops, trading throughout the year to help those in their cooler times. The Spring Lands, full of colorful and newly-awakened life, had the freshest waters to be found. The Fall Lands had their own colors and vegetation, also acting as a spiritual place for those seeking to find solace and knowledge.
It was in the Winter Lands, however, there was little movement. There were only a handful of villages on the very edges of the cold habitat; hunters and travelers, scholars and artists. But these people would often retreat to the other lands, leaving only the more magical beings to flit through the snow and ice, often solitary in nature. Much like the lone ruler who was said to live in the heart of the cold.
There were often talks at the great council, a gathering of representative from each seasonal land as well as the center, of why they allowed Winter to continue. Didn't the barren season carry risks of death, loss of life? But some could argue Summer's heat and Spring's rains could cause just as many problems. It was Fall, the closest to the borders of Winter, who would calmly remind the others of the importance of the cycle between the seasons, as well as the other role the Winter Lands played.
Dark creatures prowled the borders. Long ago they had once stampeded across all of the lands before being driven into Winter's embrace. The Winter ruler acted as a guardian, protecting everyone else. Through this balance, Winter continued alongside the other seasons, despite never appearing at the council gatherings, and never having a representative.
This year was different. More and more creatures had been spotted on the edges of Winter. Too many had been found leaving, entering other lands. Some were worried Winter had betrayed them. Others wondered if a new threat had been found. The council was to be filled to the brim, hosted in the center lands, where the seasons changed, as neutral ground. It was here, they would discuss what would be done…
And who would be sent into the cold to see what was wrong.
Sentenced
(Currently have one in the works, not looking for another at this moment)
Concept 1: An assassin is assigned a target, be it for reasons of political, or personal dislike/scorn, or for some type of gain. The assassin accepts despite their personal dislike of the contractor- they hold some sort of secret/power over the assassin. Instead of killing the target, the assassin lets them live, if they'll help them find a way to freedom.
Concept 2: A group working together to stop dark magic users have found a city that has almost fallen under the complete control of a noble. Trying to get closer and find out more, they find an assassin under his hire. But is the assassin there of their own free will? Can they help them find a way to freedom, or will the assassin carry out their task?
(I lean towards being the assassin, since I kind of have an idea for why they have to listen to the contractor, but I can also be the target.)
The sun was just beginning to set. With the fading light, inns and shops that stayed open late were lighting lamps. One or two shop keeps discreetly tied a red ribbon on the hold for the lamp outside of their doors. It was an unspoken signal that those who dealt in magic were welcome there, and could discuss the practice freely. Whenever someone approached such a shop or inn, they would always check to see if anyone, mainly a town guard –often in foul moods- were watching. A few cloaked figures would rush to hide things in the folds of fabric if a guard looked to be eyeing them. With the laws of magic control, even the smallest misstep could cause them to haul someone away for 'questioning'.
Beyond the sprawl of stores and crowded rooms, there was a ring of stone-and-wood buildings. These were the homes of those with more coin in their pocket. Some even had private guards prowling the perimeters. One in particular had a small, round tower jutting above its second floor. The windows around it gave view to the town in one direction, the farm fields and beyond in the other. All were sealed except for one, facing the South.
It was through this window a dark shape slipped in. No noise as cloth boots touched the floor, their owner sliding into a smooth crouch. The dark gray coat settled around them to hide anything they carried. A belt cinched around their waist had a single knife, but that appeared to be the only weapon. Appearances could be deceiving. The thick gloves around their hands creaked as they clenched them into fists. When the owner of the home appeared at the top of the steps to the tower, they weren't alarmed.
Rich clothing in blues and gold marked them as someone of a noble standing. The heavy rings spoke of their wealth. Placing a lit candle on the nearby desk, they allowed the light to wash over the books lining the walls. All had arcane writing, showing the amount of magic scriptures amassed in the small room. When they turned a cold gaze on the crouched figure, there was a glimpse of a glare in return. Then the intruder dipped their head to the floor, hood and scarf hiding their face.
"I have a new task for you." The noble said. "There is talk in town again, as I'm sure you've heard in your eavesdropping," he frowned, "and if they are true, I can't risk them gaining any ground. If they became confident, it would give those already following me, ideas." The last word was spat as if it was something filthy. "You will find this person and make sure they know the rules around here."
There was a low, human snarl from behind the scarf. At the sound of disagreement, the noble spun towards them, brown eyes flashing in anger.
"You will do as I say! Or need I remind you the price for disobedience?!" No reply that time, apart from visible tension locking up their body. The noble smiled, but it was far from friendly. "Good. Now, this is what more I have learned…"
Concept 2: A group working together to stop dark magic users have found a city that has almost fallen under the complete control of a noble. Trying to get closer and find out more, they find an assassin under his hire. But is the assassin there of their own free will? Can they help them find a way to freedom, or will the assassin carry out their task?
(I lean towards being the assassin, since I kind of have an idea for why they have to listen to the contractor, but I can also be the target.)
The sun was just beginning to set. With the fading light, inns and shops that stayed open late were lighting lamps. One or two shop keeps discreetly tied a red ribbon on the hold for the lamp outside of their doors. It was an unspoken signal that those who dealt in magic were welcome there, and could discuss the practice freely. Whenever someone approached such a shop or inn, they would always check to see if anyone, mainly a town guard –often in foul moods- were watching. A few cloaked figures would rush to hide things in the folds of fabric if a guard looked to be eyeing them. With the laws of magic control, even the smallest misstep could cause them to haul someone away for 'questioning'.
Beyond the sprawl of stores and crowded rooms, there was a ring of stone-and-wood buildings. These were the homes of those with more coin in their pocket. Some even had private guards prowling the perimeters. One in particular had a small, round tower jutting above its second floor. The windows around it gave view to the town in one direction, the farm fields and beyond in the other. All were sealed except for one, facing the South.
It was through this window a dark shape slipped in. No noise as cloth boots touched the floor, their owner sliding into a smooth crouch. The dark gray coat settled around them to hide anything they carried. A belt cinched around their waist had a single knife, but that appeared to be the only weapon. Appearances could be deceiving. The thick gloves around their hands creaked as they clenched them into fists. When the owner of the home appeared at the top of the steps to the tower, they weren't alarmed.
Rich clothing in blues and gold marked them as someone of a noble standing. The heavy rings spoke of their wealth. Placing a lit candle on the nearby desk, they allowed the light to wash over the books lining the walls. All had arcane writing, showing the amount of magic scriptures amassed in the small room. When they turned a cold gaze on the crouched figure, there was a glimpse of a glare in return. Then the intruder dipped their head to the floor, hood and scarf hiding their face.
"I have a new task for you." The noble said. "There is talk in town again, as I'm sure you've heard in your eavesdropping," he frowned, "and if they are true, I can't risk them gaining any ground. If they became confident, it would give those already following me, ideas." The last word was spat as if it was something filthy. "You will find this person and make sure they know the rules around here."
There was a low, human snarl from behind the scarf. At the sound of disagreement, the noble spun towards them, brown eyes flashing in anger.
"You will do as I say! Or need I remind you the price for disobedience?!" No reply that time, apart from visible tension locking up their body. The noble smiled, but it was far from friendly. "Good. Now, this is what more I have learned…"
Salvage Station
(Have a possibility in the works, not looking for another at this moment)
A specialized space-station goes from location to location, letting out scavengers and mechanics to collects salvage from broken space ports, damaged ships, and the like. Specialized suits are used to go from the shuttles and space-walk. A new team is being put together to sort through almost an entire system's worth of salvage. They already have a potential leader, now they just need more.
(As you can guess, a character I have for those would be the leader, but I would certainly be more characters, main or side or what-have-you.)
In official books, the M33 galaxy only had the letter and numbers for its name. The larger quadrant it resided in had been labelled 'M' some time ago, when several sections nearby were being divided up for examination. The '33' came from the number of planet-like spheres orbiting a soft blue-lit sun. However, none of the planets were currently inhabited. General probes showed no life had resided there previously, beyond basic plants and water. Their atmosphere left it unlikely that anything would later develop, and it was chalked up they could be used as mining operations if someone wanted to attempt it.
A small station was set up for any passerby to fuel or rest. Then it became clear that M33 had a very unique trait. Scattered all throughout the weaving planets and moons, debris floated. Large chunks, ripped pieces of metal, wiring and computers. It was impossible to tell if how many original ships or stations there had been. Some theorized they could have all been connected, but it was quickly dismissed- there was simply too much for it to be possible.
The station drifting on the outer edges of M33 began to expand. Pieces were added on as cautious probes were sent amongst the debris. Most of it would be safe to traverse, though difficult in places. Some areas still had power; meaning half-rendered guns or defense systems would sputter to life when something got too close. Orders to begin a massive salvaging project were issued. Before long, crews and workers swarmed the station, leading to more parts being built.
Two kinds of mechanics became the do-all need at the station. First, there were the technicians who worked on and did maintenance for the pilots that would enter space for the actual salvaging. Second, the pilots, the main mechanics, were the ones operating the specialized suits. They were the ones who would exit the station on drop-ships, weaving into the metal fields, seeing what they could find.
It was on one such excursion something strange was discovered. The most intact ship to date, with no hint of its origins. Inside, the damage was so severe, it was clear a battle had taken place. When it was peeled further open to be examined, information was finally found. A computer, still functioning, spewed out garbled documents. Someone had been running a salvage station before, but despite these facts, there were no signs of it.
The previous station had been called H.I.V.E. No one knew what the acronym stood for. There apparently had been a special tier of operators who rotated in a position called Q.U.E.E.N., and ran as a command centre for a special group of mechanics. Schematics were found of specialized, advanced suits. Not all of them made sense, and technicians said they would have no hope of replicating anything without hard materials.
The materials were soon located.
Five suits in total were found drifting in the other half of the ripped-up ship. Varying in size, all were badly damaged. They were brought in and laid out in a classified hanger-bay. With care, they were opened. Any remains that could have been left of the previous pilots were gone, but it was clear the suits hadn't been empty before. Something had vaporized what –who- had been inside. Each chest piece was carved with the suits' monikers.
S.T.I.N.G., H.O.N.E.Y., B.E.E., H.O.R.N.E.T., and J.A.C.K.E.T.
After much arguing, it was agreed the original suits would be preserved and put to rest, in honor of the former mechanics that had worn them. Files were extracted from the helmets to be processed, and the reverse-engineering began. Soon, the first line had been remade. However, the talk of what could have happened to the last pilots made people reluctant to don them.
Eventually, a crew of five, familiar with one another, took them over. With their cajoling, they convinced their new command group to be called Q.U.E.E.N. As their fame and success began to grow, new suits based on their designs were approved. With the original five acting as leaders, it wasn't long before the salvage branch of the M33 station was renamed to H.I.V.E.
The only fear came from five, tiny files. One from each of the old suits, unscrambled and teased apart. Texts from an unknown source, which had the ones who translated it wondering if they should have let the dead rest.
(As you can guess, a character I have for those would be the leader, but I would certainly be more characters, main or side or what-have-you.)
In official books, the M33 galaxy only had the letter and numbers for its name. The larger quadrant it resided in had been labelled 'M' some time ago, when several sections nearby were being divided up for examination. The '33' came from the number of planet-like spheres orbiting a soft blue-lit sun. However, none of the planets were currently inhabited. General probes showed no life had resided there previously, beyond basic plants and water. Their atmosphere left it unlikely that anything would later develop, and it was chalked up they could be used as mining operations if someone wanted to attempt it.
A small station was set up for any passerby to fuel or rest. Then it became clear that M33 had a very unique trait. Scattered all throughout the weaving planets and moons, debris floated. Large chunks, ripped pieces of metal, wiring and computers. It was impossible to tell if how many original ships or stations there had been. Some theorized they could have all been connected, but it was quickly dismissed- there was simply too much for it to be possible.
The station drifting on the outer edges of M33 began to expand. Pieces were added on as cautious probes were sent amongst the debris. Most of it would be safe to traverse, though difficult in places. Some areas still had power; meaning half-rendered guns or defense systems would sputter to life when something got too close. Orders to begin a massive salvaging project were issued. Before long, crews and workers swarmed the station, leading to more parts being built.
Two kinds of mechanics became the do-all need at the station. First, there were the technicians who worked on and did maintenance for the pilots that would enter space for the actual salvaging. Second, the pilots, the main mechanics, were the ones operating the specialized suits. They were the ones who would exit the station on drop-ships, weaving into the metal fields, seeing what they could find.
It was on one such excursion something strange was discovered. The most intact ship to date, with no hint of its origins. Inside, the damage was so severe, it was clear a battle had taken place. When it was peeled further open to be examined, information was finally found. A computer, still functioning, spewed out garbled documents. Someone had been running a salvage station before, but despite these facts, there were no signs of it.
The previous station had been called H.I.V.E. No one knew what the acronym stood for. There apparently had been a special tier of operators who rotated in a position called Q.U.E.E.N., and ran as a command centre for a special group of mechanics. Schematics were found of specialized, advanced suits. Not all of them made sense, and technicians said they would have no hope of replicating anything without hard materials.
The materials were soon located.
Five suits in total were found drifting in the other half of the ripped-up ship. Varying in size, all were badly damaged. They were brought in and laid out in a classified hanger-bay. With care, they were opened. Any remains that could have been left of the previous pilots were gone, but it was clear the suits hadn't been empty before. Something had vaporized what –who- had been inside. Each chest piece was carved with the suits' monikers.
S.T.I.N.G., H.O.N.E.Y., B.E.E., H.O.R.N.E.T., and J.A.C.K.E.T.
After much arguing, it was agreed the original suits would be preserved and put to rest, in honor of the former mechanics that had worn them. Files were extracted from the helmets to be processed, and the reverse-engineering began. Soon, the first line had been remade. However, the talk of what could have happened to the last pilots made people reluctant to don them.
Eventually, a crew of five, familiar with one another, took them over. With their cajoling, they convinced their new command group to be called Q.U.E.E.N. As their fame and success began to grow, new suits based on their designs were approved. With the original five acting as leaders, it wasn't long before the salvage branch of the M33 station was renamed to H.I.V.E.
The only fear came from five, tiny files. One from each of the old suits, unscrambled and teased apart. Texts from an unknown source, which had the ones who translated it wondering if they should have let the dead rest.
The Fighting Pits
(Have one plus another potential in the works, not looking for another at this moment)
(Can be any time-setting.) In a world where fighting arenas, pits, and tournaments are the main source of entertainment, those willing to battle can earn great riches and comfortable lives above the common populace- if they accept the trade-off of risking their lives if a fight goes wrong. In turn, specialized doctors have become highly sought-after, given they can keep the fighters alive longer/in better shape. There are rumors of a doctor who supposedly can heal any wound, but no one seems to know who or where they are.
(I'm kinda hoping to find someone who would want to be a fighter, for this one. It can range from knightly matches to modern fights to gritty futuristic bouts. There would be a bit of fantasy/supernatural involved for the doctor character I have in mind for this (well, technically two, a male or female depending on the preference), but that can easily be put in any time-setting. I was thinking of something along the lines of an under-dog fighter who happens to meet this doctor as they move up in the ranks (from illegal fights to legal ones). Again, I can always double-up/have side-characters.)
The roar of the crowds above was muffled in the tunnels running below the old arena. In its heyday, it had been a shining example of humanity's expertise at replicating the classical styles, the decadence they put into their entertainment. People would flock to arenas just like this one to partake of the fights, either battling or viewing. It was a high-risk, high-reward game. Those that managed to pull themselves through the rings could get noticed by sponsors willing to take a gamble of their own. From there, if they were lucky, they would rise in the ranks to eventually live in the lap of luxury- while chancing their lives each time they were called upon to fight.
While many fighters would struggle through being pounded into a bloody pulp almost every night, hoping for cash or glory, there was another complication in their lives. Their only hope of getting very far beyond even these low-level pits involved finding a doctor. The blood-sport's popularity had boomed out of control years ago, and it hadn't taken long for people to realize the importance of finding a good surgeon to keep the fighters alive. It became almost a glamour job, to be a lap-dog fighter and a high-paid medic. In the illegal arenas, though, it was extremely difficult to find a good doctor, and not one of the open-clinic ones that treated whoever could pay. They weren't so willing to abandon their entire practice to focus on only one patient.
The complications of the sport warped even further as society collapsed. A once-controlled sport was now wide-spread. Areas of land became controlled by separate, central, and often tyrannical governments. The spaces in between became dangerous wild-lands, never safe for someone to travel alone. Each area had their own claim-to-fame tournaments, all with their own risks and twists. The 'safer' ones were far outnumbered by the illegal pits. The risk for death lessened with the better arenas, but the chance still remained.
The value of doctors increased yet again. People bargained or threatened their way into trying to get a private medic, or rob supplies from an unsuspecting clinic. Some rumors had begun in circles that there was a doctor capable of healing any wound- but they were dismissed as lies. A few tried to use the story as a way to getting into certain pits, though all were uncovered as false.
Despite all of the dangers, the entertainment provided by the fights had never lessened. While no arenas like this old one were being built anymore, it was certainly still in use. When it had started to go into a state of disrepair, it wasn't long after that for the local gangs to move in and put up shop. Unlike the official fights, these pits more often than not ended up with someone dead.
The sharp clack of heeled shoes on the stone flooring heralded someone walking with purpose along the corridors. The female figure was made more obvious by the tall, knee-high boots, touching the hem of a flared skirt. A corset hugged their ribs. Black fabric and red highlights decorated their attire, from high collar to the long sleeves. Usually walking around in clothes like this, in a place like this, was just asking for problems. However, a black shawl over their shoulders was decorated with a symbol that guaranteed their safety.
Made visible thanks to the black hair wound back in a bun, a white cross was splashed across the back of their shawl. A large red box-case hung from their grasp. These all pointed to signs of a medic. Anyone with a lick of sense in the pits, illegal or not, knew not to attack a doctor. Their skills were almost worth their weight in gold- a snub from a medic could mean you sentenced yourself or another fighter you were working with to death.
With this in mind, the young woman continued on without concern. There was a hard look in her roan eyes as she stared straight ahead, unflinching in her walk. Another roar from the crowds meant a fight was drawing to a close. Pivoting on one heal, the woman turned and started up a staircase. A worn sign pointed out there was a medical facility in this direction. Though, due to the state of things, it was more where a few clinic-doctors gathered, hoping to make money when the defeated fighters were dragged off the arena floor. Now the walls were trembling from the chants to finish the battle. Whoever was on in the pit above, one was likely about to die.
(I'm kinda hoping to find someone who would want to be a fighter, for this one. It can range from knightly matches to modern fights to gritty futuristic bouts. There would be a bit of fantasy/supernatural involved for the doctor character I have in mind for this (well, technically two, a male or female depending on the preference), but that can easily be put in any time-setting. I was thinking of something along the lines of an under-dog fighter who happens to meet this doctor as they move up in the ranks (from illegal fights to legal ones). Again, I can always double-up/have side-characters.)
The roar of the crowds above was muffled in the tunnels running below the old arena. In its heyday, it had been a shining example of humanity's expertise at replicating the classical styles, the decadence they put into their entertainment. People would flock to arenas just like this one to partake of the fights, either battling or viewing. It was a high-risk, high-reward game. Those that managed to pull themselves through the rings could get noticed by sponsors willing to take a gamble of their own. From there, if they were lucky, they would rise in the ranks to eventually live in the lap of luxury- while chancing their lives each time they were called upon to fight.
While many fighters would struggle through being pounded into a bloody pulp almost every night, hoping for cash or glory, there was another complication in their lives. Their only hope of getting very far beyond even these low-level pits involved finding a doctor. The blood-sport's popularity had boomed out of control years ago, and it hadn't taken long for people to realize the importance of finding a good surgeon to keep the fighters alive. It became almost a glamour job, to be a lap-dog fighter and a high-paid medic. In the illegal arenas, though, it was extremely difficult to find a good doctor, and not one of the open-clinic ones that treated whoever could pay. They weren't so willing to abandon their entire practice to focus on only one patient.
The complications of the sport warped even further as society collapsed. A once-controlled sport was now wide-spread. Areas of land became controlled by separate, central, and often tyrannical governments. The spaces in between became dangerous wild-lands, never safe for someone to travel alone. Each area had their own claim-to-fame tournaments, all with their own risks and twists. The 'safer' ones were far outnumbered by the illegal pits. The risk for death lessened with the better arenas, but the chance still remained.
The value of doctors increased yet again. People bargained or threatened their way into trying to get a private medic, or rob supplies from an unsuspecting clinic. Some rumors had begun in circles that there was a doctor capable of healing any wound- but they were dismissed as lies. A few tried to use the story as a way to getting into certain pits, though all were uncovered as false.
Despite all of the dangers, the entertainment provided by the fights had never lessened. While no arenas like this old one were being built anymore, it was certainly still in use. When it had started to go into a state of disrepair, it wasn't long after that for the local gangs to move in and put up shop. Unlike the official fights, these pits more often than not ended up with someone dead.
The sharp clack of heeled shoes on the stone flooring heralded someone walking with purpose along the corridors. The female figure was made more obvious by the tall, knee-high boots, touching the hem of a flared skirt. A corset hugged their ribs. Black fabric and red highlights decorated their attire, from high collar to the long sleeves. Usually walking around in clothes like this, in a place like this, was just asking for problems. However, a black shawl over their shoulders was decorated with a symbol that guaranteed their safety.
Made visible thanks to the black hair wound back in a bun, a white cross was splashed across the back of their shawl. A large red box-case hung from their grasp. These all pointed to signs of a medic. Anyone with a lick of sense in the pits, illegal or not, knew not to attack a doctor. Their skills were almost worth their weight in gold- a snub from a medic could mean you sentenced yourself or another fighter you were working with to death.
With this in mind, the young woman continued on without concern. There was a hard look in her roan eyes as she stared straight ahead, unflinching in her walk. Another roar from the crowds meant a fight was drawing to a close. Pivoting on one heal, the woman turned and started up a staircase. A worn sign pointed out there was a medical facility in this direction. Though, due to the state of things, it was more where a few clinic-doctors gathered, hoping to make money when the defeated fighters were dragged off the arena floor. Now the walls were trembling from the chants to finish the battle. Whoever was on in the pit above, one was likely about to die.
The Tower
(Still open)
At the centerpiece of an almost barren world, a structure rises above all others. For eons, none have been able to find a way inside the black marble stone that makes up its massive walls. A small city is carved at a distance from its base. Heavily reliant on outside traders to keep it alive, it offers travelers rest if they are planning to continue through the deserts or mountains that create the landscape. Or, for the brave and curious, planning to make the trek to see if they can unravel the secrets of the Black Tower.
(While, once more, I can do multiple characters, I have a main one for this, quite a bit darker in nature. They're meant to be a guide leading to the Tower, but of course I can be extra characters that are questing, too.)
For the longest time, the vast desert remained untouched.
Jutting mountains surrounded most of the rolling sands, stretched far, far to the edges of the map. Those wishing to cross the desert would have no choice but to stop at one of the strategically placed villages that could be found in the mountain passages. If anyone tried to avoid these places, they would quickly find how far it was to the outposts that guided travelers. Many a soul had lost their lives trying to foolishly cross.
A handful of oases had become safe havens. They dotted the desert in splashes of blue and green, far enough apart that they became the hubs for small villages. Over time, they built into stable communities that survived on outside trade, offering treasures hidden within the sands and resting points as a way to stay alive. Those who lived there knew how dangerous the sandstorms were that slowly shifted the sandy landscape.
But no one, living there or not, could have anticipated what one storm would bring.
It lasted for nearly a week, putting lives in danger and making it impossible to cross. All traveling caravans were forced to stop. When the skies finally cleared, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Trade resumed. It was when the first group after the storms finished crossing one way and came back, did word spread. The sands had changed so drastically, an area in the middle of the desert had been swept clean. The hollows of an old stone city had emerged, bare bones of a civilization that had died out.
More shocking as the massive structure that came rising out of the earth. Casting its shadow in all directions as the sun rotated in the sky, a black tower speared towards the heavens. No one could guess what it was made out of- obsidian or marble? Stone or clay? The round base had no obvious doors. Higher up there were gaps that could have been windows, but they were blocked with bars. Dark gold lines were shot throughout the structure, making obscure patterns and layers. Whispers said a faint grinding could be heard on occasion, making rumors began that the innards of the tower were moving and rearranging.
No one knew what it was for, where it had come from, or what it meant. Was it a prison? A stronghold? A portal? A treasury? As the stories grew, so did the range of them. It wasn't long before the more ambitious began to move into the abandoned city. It was becoming a new outpost, a constant stream of people in and out making it more alive than the desert had been in years. Despite how many people came, no one could figure out how to get into the mysterious Black Tower. Yet this never stopped people from trying, and it soon became the main reason for any hopeful adventurer to cross the desert and into the Tower's shadow.
(While, once more, I can do multiple characters, I have a main one for this, quite a bit darker in nature. They're meant to be a guide leading to the Tower, but of course I can be extra characters that are questing, too.)
For the longest time, the vast desert remained untouched.
Jutting mountains surrounded most of the rolling sands, stretched far, far to the edges of the map. Those wishing to cross the desert would have no choice but to stop at one of the strategically placed villages that could be found in the mountain passages. If anyone tried to avoid these places, they would quickly find how far it was to the outposts that guided travelers. Many a soul had lost their lives trying to foolishly cross.
A handful of oases had become safe havens. They dotted the desert in splashes of blue and green, far enough apart that they became the hubs for small villages. Over time, they built into stable communities that survived on outside trade, offering treasures hidden within the sands and resting points as a way to stay alive. Those who lived there knew how dangerous the sandstorms were that slowly shifted the sandy landscape.
But no one, living there or not, could have anticipated what one storm would bring.
It lasted for nearly a week, putting lives in danger and making it impossible to cross. All traveling caravans were forced to stop. When the skies finally cleared, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Trade resumed. It was when the first group after the storms finished crossing one way and came back, did word spread. The sands had changed so drastically, an area in the middle of the desert had been swept clean. The hollows of an old stone city had emerged, bare bones of a civilization that had died out.
More shocking as the massive structure that came rising out of the earth. Casting its shadow in all directions as the sun rotated in the sky, a black tower speared towards the heavens. No one could guess what it was made out of- obsidian or marble? Stone or clay? The round base had no obvious doors. Higher up there were gaps that could have been windows, but they were blocked with bars. Dark gold lines were shot throughout the structure, making obscure patterns and layers. Whispers said a faint grinding could be heard on occasion, making rumors began that the innards of the tower were moving and rearranging.
No one knew what it was for, where it had come from, or what it meant. Was it a prison? A stronghold? A portal? A treasury? As the stories grew, so did the range of them. It wasn't long before the more ambitious began to move into the abandoned city. It was becoming a new outpost, a constant stream of people in and out making it more alive than the desert had been in years. Despite how many people came, no one could figure out how to get into the mysterious Black Tower. Yet this never stopped people from trying, and it soon became the main reason for any hopeful adventurer to cross the desert and into the Tower's shadow.
The Wonder Lands
(Have a potential in the works, not looking for another at this moment)
This is no world of happy things and cherry trees. Wonderland was what it was once called, before something terrible befell it and its inhabitants. Wonderland became The Wonder Lands, and it eats other worlds in its growth. From tangled royalty to a story-telling gryphon, this realm has fallen apart. A forever-smiling Cheshire Cat awaits the unfortunate ones who fall down the holes. Will you be the one to try and save them?
(As always, I can play multiple characters, and in this case, it's a given for me. Many of inhabitants I have made and ready, waiting for someone new to show up. The only tricky thing about this scenario is finding a balance- it implies essentially dropping someone's character in blind, but hoping they'll still influence the story as things go.)
Wonderland was created by the White Rabbit for a reason. It was meant to offer a safe haven to those who felt like they had been tossed aside from their world. For those who felt forgotten. Wonderland gave them a place to feel happiness, and the strength to return home. No one is sure where the White Rabbit came from, not even Rabbit himself. But he wished to make Wonderland, and so he did. After Wonderland came to be, other lives were created within it, brought forth by energy. A handful of these were very important figures. The White Rabbit became close friends with each.
The first was the King of the Reverse Spade. He helped the White Rabbit keep an eye on the going-ons of Wonderland. The second was the Lady of Hearts, the King's sister. She was more ambitious than her brother, but always meant well. The third was the Duchess. A cool and collected woman, she in fact had a tender heart. It was this heart that drew her and the King together, and soon after they were engaged. The fourth was the Black Widow. She was a mysterious woman with spider venom in her blood and spider legs on her back. Magic was weaved into her silk webs. The fifth was the Gryphon. A creature of myth, he collected stories and songs. In a silent way he became a protector and guardian.
The last figure is truly the first. They stood apart in how close they became with the White Rabbit. This one held the name of the Cheshire Cat. He would help the most in cheering up those who came into Wonderland. His happiest moments were seeing other people smile.
One day, the White Rabbit left Wonderland. It is still unclear why he departed, but he assured he would soon return. In his wake, he asked the Cheshire Cat to keep an eye on who entered Wonderland through the pathways he had created. At first there was no problem with this. Things continued on as usual.
Until other people began creeping into Wonderland.
As the Cheshire Cat came to call them, these people were 'humanity's taint'. They were not meant to be in Wonderland, for they were dark, full of hate, and unwilling to change. Despite the Cheshire Cat's best efforts, things got out of hand. It wasn't long before Cheshire was driven insane by these humans. When the White Rabbit finally returned he ran to his friend, but it was too late. Cast into madness, the Cheshire Cat pushed the White Rabbit to the same. Overcome by grief, the White Rabbit twisted into the Black Rabbit.
While the White Rabbit could create and change, the Black Rabbit could only warp and destroy. It was at his hand Wonderland was made into The Wonder Lands. As those humans had forced their way in, now their entire worlds were made to pay. The Wonder Lands acted as a living thing. It would draw in these worlds and absorb them. With each world taken in, The Wonder Lands grew and changed- as did the inhabitants.
The King of the Reverse Spade was overwhelmed. He could not hold. When the Lady of Hearts came to him, demanding his skill as a fighter to capture the Black Rabbit, he refused. Dropping and breaking his crown, the King instead chose his favored hat and became known as the Mad Hatter. The Duchess took him and ran from the Lady of Hearts, who, in their absence, became the Queen of Hearts. The Black Widow, overcome with grief, donned a mourning veil. She withdrew into the dark corners of The Wonder Lands and wept. The Gryphon lost his sheen of gold. Becoming dipped in ink he left for the mountains. There he sat, watched, and remembered.
The Cheshire Cat was still mad. A smile was now plastered to his face. He became unpredictable and unstable. The White Rabbit, drained of energy, tried to push the Black Rabbit deep within himself. In doing so, he shut himself off from The Wonder Lands, trapping himself between realms. Any time he tried to set foot within a place, the Black Rabbit would stir within him. So he stayed away, at a loss of how to save his friends.
This is our prologue.
(As always, I can play multiple characters, and in this case, it's a given for me. Many of inhabitants I have made and ready, waiting for someone new to show up. The only tricky thing about this scenario is finding a balance- it implies essentially dropping someone's character in blind, but hoping they'll still influence the story as things go.)
Wonderland was created by the White Rabbit for a reason. It was meant to offer a safe haven to those who felt like they had been tossed aside from their world. For those who felt forgotten. Wonderland gave them a place to feel happiness, and the strength to return home. No one is sure where the White Rabbit came from, not even Rabbit himself. But he wished to make Wonderland, and so he did. After Wonderland came to be, other lives were created within it, brought forth by energy. A handful of these were very important figures. The White Rabbit became close friends with each.
The first was the King of the Reverse Spade. He helped the White Rabbit keep an eye on the going-ons of Wonderland. The second was the Lady of Hearts, the King's sister. She was more ambitious than her brother, but always meant well. The third was the Duchess. A cool and collected woman, she in fact had a tender heart. It was this heart that drew her and the King together, and soon after they were engaged. The fourth was the Black Widow. She was a mysterious woman with spider venom in her blood and spider legs on her back. Magic was weaved into her silk webs. The fifth was the Gryphon. A creature of myth, he collected stories and songs. In a silent way he became a protector and guardian.
The last figure is truly the first. They stood apart in how close they became with the White Rabbit. This one held the name of the Cheshire Cat. He would help the most in cheering up those who came into Wonderland. His happiest moments were seeing other people smile.
One day, the White Rabbit left Wonderland. It is still unclear why he departed, but he assured he would soon return. In his wake, he asked the Cheshire Cat to keep an eye on who entered Wonderland through the pathways he had created. At first there was no problem with this. Things continued on as usual.
Until other people began creeping into Wonderland.
As the Cheshire Cat came to call them, these people were 'humanity's taint'. They were not meant to be in Wonderland, for they were dark, full of hate, and unwilling to change. Despite the Cheshire Cat's best efforts, things got out of hand. It wasn't long before Cheshire was driven insane by these humans. When the White Rabbit finally returned he ran to his friend, but it was too late. Cast into madness, the Cheshire Cat pushed the White Rabbit to the same. Overcome by grief, the White Rabbit twisted into the Black Rabbit.
While the White Rabbit could create and change, the Black Rabbit could only warp and destroy. It was at his hand Wonderland was made into The Wonder Lands. As those humans had forced their way in, now their entire worlds were made to pay. The Wonder Lands acted as a living thing. It would draw in these worlds and absorb them. With each world taken in, The Wonder Lands grew and changed- as did the inhabitants.
The King of the Reverse Spade was overwhelmed. He could not hold. When the Lady of Hearts came to him, demanding his skill as a fighter to capture the Black Rabbit, he refused. Dropping and breaking his crown, the King instead chose his favored hat and became known as the Mad Hatter. The Duchess took him and ran from the Lady of Hearts, who, in their absence, became the Queen of Hearts. The Black Widow, overcome with grief, donned a mourning veil. She withdrew into the dark corners of The Wonder Lands and wept. The Gryphon lost his sheen of gold. Becoming dipped in ink he left for the mountains. There he sat, watched, and remembered.
The Cheshire Cat was still mad. A smile was now plastered to his face. He became unpredictable and unstable. The White Rabbit, drained of energy, tried to push the Black Rabbit deep within himself. In doing so, he shut himself off from The Wonder Lands, trapping himself between realms. Any time he tried to set foot within a place, the Black Rabbit would stir within him. So he stayed away, at a loss of how to save his friends.
This is our prologue.
Thief of Thieves
(Still open)
(Can be any time-setting.) Amongst the magical world, there are stories and songs about a Thief who is said to be able to steal anything. The stars were his limits- quite literally, if one is to go by the most well-known song/poem. Some of these tales have leaked so far, to the point rumors were scrounged up that this Thief is real. Odd sightings and happenings, items going missing from those who misuse them, dangerous artifacts being taken and hidden, and someone just outright dancing and playing through hidden circles. Is this the legendary Thief? Several people are putting a bounty out to find this person and bring them back, to find out the truth. Little do they know, there's some in their midst who knows more than they're saying.
(The Thief character I have in mind to be for this wouldn't be revealed right away- they're hiding in plain sight with the rest of the people 'hunting' for them! This sort of story would be an exploration of different magical creatures/settings, etc., and my character would subtly be helping another to find out more about the more unusual side of life.)
(The Thief character I have in mind to be for this wouldn't be revealed right away- they're hiding in plain sight with the rest of the people 'hunting' for them! This sort of story would be an exploration of different magical creatures/settings, etc., and my character would subtly be helping another to find out more about the more unusual side of life.)
Void
(Still open, hoping to find someone for)
(Set more in a past setting, not necessarily medieval.) There are rumors of a civilization on the other side of a vast desert that worship strange gods and demons. Anyone who has crossed and traded with them either don't return, or come back with odd stories of a section of the city closed off to outsiders, where the temples and shrines are. No one truly knows what power lurks there, or if they are connected to the strange creatures slowly creeping out farther and farther from the desert.
Until a lone person comes across the sea of sand, barely alive, and knowing they have to keep moving. They need help. They have fled the so-called gods… but the demons want them back.
(The character I have in mind for this one is the one who has fled the desert city. I'm hoping to find someone/people who would be the ones he encounters.)
Until a lone person comes across the sea of sand, barely alive, and knowing they have to keep moving. They need help. They have fled the so-called gods… but the demons want them back.
(The character I have in mind for this one is the one who has fled the desert city. I'm hoping to find someone/people who would be the ones he encounters.)
Wild Wizard
(Still open)
(More for a medieval setting, but could be tweaked.) With several large schools dedicated to finding and teaching magic to select individuals, it tends to get around when someone is 'unteachable'. A young sorcerer, reported as being unable to control their magic. When wondering what to do with this dangerous individual, one of the only teachers in the school that sees what's happening warns them- and they vanished. Now, the schools are putting out a reward for anyone who can find them and bring them back.
(Being multiple characters in this one is a given for me, for a couple different reasons. One is that one of my 'main' characters wouldn't be brought into play until later in the RP. I'm hoping to find someone who'd like to be one of the people from the schools/people taking up the contract, like one of my other characters.)
(Being multiple characters in this one is a given for me, for a couple different reasons. One is that one of my 'main' characters wouldn't be brought into play until later in the RP. I'm hoping to find someone who'd like to be one of the people from the schools/people taking up the contract, like one of my other characters.)
Thank-you for sticking through my ramblings! If you're at all interested in RPing, just fire me off a message, or reply to me here!
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