u/the_thunder_queen

It had been such a peaceful morning. The air was reeking of manure, some of the other inmates were crying about something, and the mice were having the best time of their lives chewing on whatever they could find. This tranquility was shattered when the stone walls of the prison you had been thrown in were...blown apart, stone and brick flying in every direction and almost taking your head off. Thankfully, the steel bars saved your life, and it was probably the only time you were thankful to have them there, caging you in.

Confusion was ripe in the air. Even guards in the prison dungeon did not understand what was happening until a messenger came and shouted:

“We’re under attack! Commander orders all men to the walls! Come on!”

Well, that cleared things up. Not that it helped you much. Even when all the guards rushed off, leaving the prisoners unwatched and alone, you had no way of using the situation to your advantage. The blacksmiths who had forged the bars had done their job too well. Your meager flesh and bones were not good enough this time. Your lamentation, however, was interrupted by slow footsteps descending down the prison dungeon stairs. The figure that emerged was not one you had ever seen or even imagined ever seeing.

A female, by the looks of it. Average height, cloaked in a dark cloak and hood. The only feature of hers that stood out was her facemask and royal purple hair that flowed down the sides of her head. Now that she had descended, her footsteps were as silent as a feline’s and twice as agile. She stopped right in the middle of the dungeon floor, looking around at all the prisoners with a disinterested look.

“Is there anyone here who was arrested in Hollowbark?”

Your heart probably skipped a beat when you realized she was talking about you. With all that was happening, it probably wasn’t the wisest move to raise your hand, or being blown apart would most likely follow. Fortunately for you, another man in another cell got up and approached the bars of his cell, a crazed look in his eyes.

“Why don’t you take off that cloak and sit on my lap? Then I’ll maybe tell you where I’m from, you little sl-”

The poor fool didn’t get to finish his sentence before the mysterious woman reached for something in her cloak, pulled it out, and blasted the man’s head off with a flintlock pistol shot. Flesh, blood, and whatever little brain cells the man had were splattered all across the nearby wall, a warning to those who continued to play games and no answer her.

“I’ll ask again. Is there anyone here from Hollowbark?”

Perhaps it was your look, or the drop of sweat on your brow, but the strange woman’s head turned towards you, and she proceeded to approach your cell, leaning close to the bars to have a look at you, her exotic purple eyes looking you up and down.

“You. It’s you, isn’t it?”

Before you could answer, she had already holstered her pistol and produced a set of keys, and just like that, in the blink of an eye, the doors to your cell opened up. Like a flash, the woman was in front of you, her hand slamming onto your face, cupping your jaw, turning your head from one side, then to the other, then up, then down as she took a long, good look at you up close.

“You’re certainly the one.” After confirming that, the woman let go of your face and relaxed a bit, exhaling. “We’re getting out of here. You will follow me, understood? Keep close and don’t wander off. Up the stairs, there’s a corpse. Make sure to grab his sword.”

Stepping away from you, the woman turned like a hurricane, her cloak fluttering and the scent of lavender being left in her wake. Not wasting any time, she made her way towards the stairs leading to freedom, but stopped for a moment to look back.

“I am called Akari, and I have sworn to get you out of here alive. Don’t make me fail in my vow.”

—-

How you proceed and what kind of character you make is entirely up to you. Someone strong, or someone weak. Someone determined, or a total waste of life. Everyone has their purpose in this story. Beautiful and ugly alike, for it’s the journey that matters, not how you start it. A trek through the unknown lands, full of danger. A stay in magnificent towns, full of intrigue and the company of characters, both cute and awful.

I do intend to be a sort of a GM for this story, since I have ideas for many, many characters you would interact with, romancable and not. At the end of the day, your character would be the main one, the story centering around them and their journey of self discovery, fate, and destiny. And if you happen to have a butt load of fun along the way - why not? There is never any rush with me. Destiny can wait if you want to have a steamy sauna scene. Your path is your own to determine.

The same goes for sexuality, kinks, and to some extent race. For this plot, I expect from you a human character. I know, I know...boring, duh, but if I can have one thing in this RP, it’s a love for humans. Your character could be straight, bi, or gay. They can have one romantic interest, many, or none at all. Nothing in this world is black and white; the same goes for the character’s feelings. As for the kinks, I’ve ascended beyond a need for lists, since I consider myself without limits. I’ll do pretty much any kink as long as it makes sense for the plot. As to say...I won’t do anything too unrealistic that would shatter my sense of reality. Nothing that defied the laws of common sense and gravity (looking at you hyper people). I do like it when people come to me with their favorite kinks, and not their entire kink lists. That can come later, but what I’m more interested in is...something that sets them apart, something that says more about your personality as a writer, or your character. The kinks should reflect your character. So do mention your top 3, or something close to that, but before writing them down, do think: do they make sense for your character? If yes, I’ll most probably do them <3.

I, of course, also prefer people who are literate, like to write, and express themselves. People who like not only words, but visual/sound cues (I’ll bombard you with my characters’ favorite weapons/sunday clothes/armors). I am not one to jump into a story without plotting, and rushing me is never a good idea. Once we’re both happy with what we’ve discussed, then yes, let’s start, not before. Banter is half the fun in finding an RP partner.

With my preferences, interests, and biography, I could go on and on for hours on end, but I believe I’ve said enough to grab your attention, reader. If you like what I’ve proposed, message me promptly, and let’s talk. If not, that’s alright, honey. I’ll have more plots to come about different topics and in different settings, as soon as the inspiration hits me. Oooh, and that reminds me: if you have a better idea or proposal for any kind of changes for this story, I’m all ears. RP is, of course, a cooperative work, so I do want all your ideas and proposed changes so we can make the story as good as it can possibly be.

With that said,

I have spoken.

[Cyberpunk, OCxCC, No V, Dark/Wholesome]

The roads of the badlands had always been eerily silent and empty. Almost frighteningly so. Only a few dared make their way along the dirt roads that showed up on no maps. Breaking down in the desert would be the least of your worries. The wraiths, scavs, and other people looking to profit from your fuck-ups were aplenty. Nothing Panam hadn’t dealt with before, of course. Only a fool went out of the city or camp without an iron…and she had a few.

“Kill it all…for a like supreme.”

Quietly singing along with some old ass rocker boy band, Panam was tapping her fingers on her steering wheel as her Thorton roared onwards and upwards, over the arid hills and sandswept roads. She had picked up her cargo only an hour ago, and so far it all looked quite dandy. She had made it over and around two checkpoints already, and even avoided some gonk militech patrol along the way.

CLANG CLANG CLANG

The rhythmic banging sound coming from her trunk did spook Panam, if only for a second. As far as she knew, she was transporting some stolen biotechnica equipment to a buyer in Night City. She was told it was definitely ‘biological’ but nothing more than that. The pay was better if she didn’t ask questions, usually. But no one had said anything to her about something being alive back in her trunk. That changed everything.

Hitting on the brakes, Panam made her warhorse come to a complete stop, conjuring up a bit of a dust cloud around herself. Not a wise move, but Panam hoped there would be no one around to see that. Fingers crossed. Grabbing her iron out of her driver’s side door, she checked the chamber to be sure it’s locked and loaded. Getting out, the badass smuggler rushed over to the back of her rig and popped open the trunk. Sure enough, there it was, the massive black container that took two men to put in. Now that she thought of it…it was just the right size to fit a human.

Facepalming herself with her gun still in her hand, she muttered: “Fucking hell, Dave. Sure as fuck am not doing any more jobs for the Silent Riders. Human trafficking, that’s just…tsk…”

Looking at the release mechanism, she soon found that to open it, you’d need to enter the correct fingerprint.

“Fuck that. “ Panam said to herself before smashing on the mechanism with the butt of her gun, once, and then twice, making sparks fly in all directions and all the programming to go haywire. But unexpectedly, the lock did open all the way, revealing inside just what Panam had suspected. Except…she hadn’t expected them to be butt naked.

“This is some fucked up shit…ok…” said the gorgeous smuggler, leaning on the trunk herself now, awfully close to you, still holding onto her iron tightly in case you were dumber than you looked. “You best tell me who the fuck you are, and quickly. I swear to god, if you’re some suit, I will…”

Panam’s rage-filled venting was interrupted by a beeping sound from the car’s computer, making her whip her head around and look at it. A second later, an AI voice would follow up: “Warning. Sandstorm detected in the area. Time until arrival, ETA: 5 minutes. Intensity: Extreme.”

Grunting in displeasure, Panam double checked by rushing to her seat to see where it was on the local map. Confirming that it was indeed one queen of a storm, she smashed her fist into her steering wheel. After a long moment of deliberation, the smuggler queen shook her head and stored her iron back in the driver’s side door where she had found it. Next, she rushed back to the naked individual in the back of her car, all tied up.

“Sadly, we don’t have time to play Twenty Questions. If you want to live, come with me.”

Whipping out a knife from around her belt, she proceeded to cut loose the cable ties holding your wrists and ankles together. Even as she did so, the wind was clearly starting to pick up. The sandstorm itself was only now appearing on the horizon, but apparently, it was moving fast, and the faster it moved, the deadlier it was. Panam, by the looks of it, wasn’t too afraid of herself or you, but more about her dear Thorton and the fresh paint job she had done on it. Such was the life in the badlands.

“Passenger side. Go!”

Rushing to get herself in her seat, she booted up her truck once again, making sure it was ready for the fast pace she was about to set. Flicking a few release switches and pressing a few throttle buttons, she didn’t even wait for you to close your door before the Thorton sped off, practically jumping over the tiny dunes that had formed in the desert.

“There’s a shelter. Hopefully, we’ll make it,” she would say to comfort you and herself. After a brief pause and after getting on a straighter road, she would glance at you again before adding, “ I’m Panam. Use it or not, I don’t care.”

—-

How you proceed and what kind of character you make is entirely up to you, the same with your desired relationship with Panam. I am well aware that the plot is very barebones and quite open-ended, and that was how it was intended to be. I’m not looking for someone who will rush me into starting. I love taking my time discussing what we both like in these kinds of stories, writing down our desires, quirks, and dream scenarios so we can create the best plot imaginable. This plot is, of course, Cyberpunk-ish, so if you have any additional ideas, inspirations, or anything else, I’m always all ears and welcome any idea, however zany it might be <3.

The same goes for your kinks and things you like, sexually or not. Nothing in this world is black and white; the same goes for the character’s feelings. They can be instantly smitten by Panam, seeing her as a dream girl, or perhaps it takes time for you to overcome how much of an bitch she is (great body tho *insert catcall*). As for the kinks, I’ve ascended beyond a need for lists, since I consider myself without limits. I’ll do pretty much any kink as long as it makes sense for the plot. As to say...I won’t do anything unrealistic in a plot that’s set in a modern, real world. Nothing that defied the laws of nature (looking at you hyper people). I do like it when people come to me with their favorite kinks, and not their entire kink lists. That can come later, but what I’m more interested in is...something that sets you apart, something that says more about your personality as a writer, or your character. The kinks should reflect your character. So do mention your top 3, or something close to that but before writing them down, do think: do they make sense in the plot? If yes, I’ll most probably do them <3. And if you mention something as basic as ‘kissing’ I will kick you in the groin. Don’t test me. If you need to add something so mundane in your top 3, then at least add an interesting body part you’d like to do it to.

I, of course, also prefer people who are literate, like to write, and express themselves. People who like not only words, but visual/sound cues (i’ll bombard you with Panam’s favorite going-out tops/ fav songs/porn she likes). I am not one to jump into a story without plotting, and rushing me is never a good idea. Once we’re both happy with what we’ve discussed, then yes, let’s start, not before. Banter is half the fun in finding an RP partner.

With my preferences, interests, and biography, I could go on and on for hours on end, but I believe I’ve said enough to grab your attention, reader. If you like what I’ve proposed, message me promptly, and let’s talk. If not, that’s alright, honey. I’ll have more plots to come about different topics and in different settings, as soon as the inspiration hits me. Oooh, and that reminds me: if you have a better idea or proposal for any kind of changes for this story, I’m all ears. RP is, of course, a cooperative work, so I do want all your ideas and proposed changes so we can make the story as good as it can possibly be. Secret password: do tell what position are you daydreaming of having Panam in? Just watching her be in or ‘doing’ her, both work.

With that said,

See you around, Choom.

[Cyberpunk, OCxCC, No V, Dark/Wholesome]
---
The roads of the badlands had always been eerily silent and empty. Almost frighteningly so. Only a few dared make their way along the dirt roads that showed up on no maps. Breaking down in the desert would be the least of your worries. The wraiths, scavs, and other people looking to profit from your fuck-ups were aplenty. Nothing Panam hadn’t dealt with before, of course. Only a fool went out of the city or camp without an iron…and she had a few.

“Kill it all…for a like supreme.”

Quietly singing along with some old ass rocker boy band, Panam was tapping her fingers on her steering wheel as her Thorton roared onwards and upwards, over the arid hills and sandswept roads. She had picked up her cargo only an hour ago, and so far it all looked quite dandy. She had made it over and around two checkpoints already, and even avoided some gonk militech patrol along the way.

CLANG CLANG CLANG

The rhythmic banging sound coming from her trunk did spook Panam, if only for a second. As far as she knew, she was transporting some stolen biotechnica equipment to a buyer in Night City. She was told it was definitely ‘biological’ but nothing more than that. The pay was better if she didn’t ask questions, usually. But no one had said anything to her about something being alive back in her trunk. That changed everything.

Hitting on the brakes, Panam made her warhorse come to a complete stop, conjuring up a bit of a dust cloud around herself. Not a wise move, but Panam hoped there would be no one around to see that. Fingers crossed. Grabbing her iron out of her driver’s side door, she checked the chamber to be sure it’s locked and loaded. Getting out, the badass smuggler rushed over to the back of her rig and popped open the trunk. Sure enough, there it was, the massive black container that took two men to put in. Now that she thought of it…it was just the right size to fit a human.

Facepalming herself with her gun still in her hand, she muttered: “Fucking hell, Dave. Sure as fuck am not doing any more jobs for the Silent Riders. Human trafficking, that’s just…tsk…”

Looking at the release mechanism, she soon found that to open it, you’d need to enter the correct fingerprint.

“Fuck that. “ Panam said to herself before smashing on the mechanism with the butt of her gun, once, and then twice, making sparks fly in all directions and all the programming to go haywire. But unexpectedly, the lock did open all the way, revealing inside just what Panam had suspected. Except…she hadn’t expected them to be butt naked.

“This is some fucked up shit…ok…” said the gorgeous smuggler, leaning on the trunk herself now, awfully close to you, still holding onto her iron tightly in case you were dumber than you looked. “You best tell me who the fuck you are, and quickly. I swear to god, if you’re some suit, I will…”

Panam’s rage-filled venting was interrupted by a beeping sound from the car’s computer, making her whip her head around and look at it. A second later, an AI voice would follow up: “Warning. Sandstorm detected in the area. Time until arrival, ETA: 5 minutes. Intensity: Extreme.”

Grunting in displeasure, Panam double checked by rushing to her seat to see where it was on the local map. Confirming that it was indeed one queen of a storm, she smashed her fist into her steering wheel. After a long moment of deliberation, the smuggler queen shook her head and stored her iron back in the driver’s side door where she had found it. Next, she rushed back to the naked individual in the back of her car, all tied up.

“Sadly, we don’t have time to play Twenty Questions. If you want to live, come with me.”

Whipping out a knife from around her belt, she proceeded to cut loose the cable ties holding your wrists and ankles together. Even as she did so, the wind was clearly starting to pick up. The sandstorm itself was only now appearing on the horizon, but apparently, it was moving fast, and the faster it moved, the deadlier it was. Panam, by the looks of it, wasn’t too afraid of herself or you, but more about her dear Thorton and the fresh paint job she had done on it. Such was the life in the badlands.

“Passenger side. Go!”

Rushing to get herself in her seat, she booted up her truck once again, making sure it was ready for the fast pace she was about to set. Flicking a few release switches and pressing a few throttle buttons, she didn’t even wait for you to close your door before the Thorton sped off, practically jumping over the tiny dunes that had formed in the desert.

“There’s a shelter. Hopefully, we’ll make it,” she would say to comfort you and herself. After a brief pause and after getting on a straighter road, she would glance at you again before adding, “ I’m Panam. Use it or not, I don’t care.”

—-

How you proceed and what kind of character you make is entirely up to you, the same with your desired relationship with Panam. I am well aware that the plot is very barebones and quite open-ended, and that was how it was intended to be. I’m not looking for someone who will rush me into starting. I love taking my time discussing what we both like in these kinds of stories, writing down our desires, quirks, and dream scenarios so we can create the best plot imaginable. This plot is, of course, Cyberpunk-ish, so if you have any additional ideas, inspirations, or anything else, I’m always all ears and welcome any idea, however zany it might be <3.

The same goes for your kinks and things you like, sexually or not. Nothing in this world is black and white; the same goes for the character’s feelings. They can be instantly smitten by Panam, seeing her as a dream girl, or perhaps it takes time for you to overcome how much of an bitch she is (great body tho insert catcall). As for the kinks, I’ve ascended beyond a need for lists, since I consider myself without limits. I’ll do pretty much any kink as long as it makes sense for the plot. As to say...I won’t do anything unrealistic in a plot that’s set in a modern, real world. Nothing that defied the laws of nature (looking at you hyper people). I do like it when people come to me with their favorite kinks, and not their entire kink lists. That can come later, but what I’m more interested in is...something that sets you apart, something that says more about your personality as a writer, or your character. The kinks should reflect your character. So do mention your top 3, or something close to that but before writing them down, do think: do they make sense in the plot? If yes, I’ll most probably do them <3. And if you mention something as basic as ‘kissing’ I will kick you in the groin. Don’t test me. If you need to add something so mundane in your top 3, then at least add an interesting body part you’d like to do it to.

I, of course, also prefer people who are literate, like to write, and express themselves. People who like not only words, but visual/sound cues (i’ll bombard you with Panam’s favorite going-out tops/ fav songs/porn she likes). I am not one to jump into a story without plotting, and rushing me is never a good idea. Once we’re both happy with what we’ve discussed, then yes, let’s start, not before. Banter is half the fun in finding an RP partner.

With my preferences, interests, and biography, I could go on and on for hours on end, but I believe I’ve said enough to grab your attention, reader. If you like what I’ve proposed, message me promptly, and let’s talk. If not, that’s alright, honey. I’ll have more plots to come about different topics and in different settings, as soon as the inspiration hits me. Oooh, and that reminds me: if you have a better idea or proposal for any kind of changes for this story, I’m all ears. RP is, of course, a cooperative work, so I do want all your ideas and proposed changes so we can make the story as good as it can possibly be. Secret password: do tell what position are you daydreaming of having Panam in? Just watching her be in or ‘doing’ her, both work.

With that said,
See you around, Choom.

It had been such a peaceful morning. The air was reeking of manure, some of the other inmates were crying about something, and the mice were having the best time of their lives chewing on whatever they could find. This tranquility was shattered when the stone walls of the prison you had been thrown in were...blown apart, stone and brick flying in every direction and almost taking your head off. Thankfully, the steel bars saved your life, and it was probably the only time you were thankful to have them there, caging you in.

Confusion was ripe in the air. Even guards in the prison dungeon did not understand what was happening until a messenger came and shouted:

“We’re under attack! Commander orders all men to the walls! Come on!”

Well, that cleared things up. Not that it helped you much. Even when all the guards rushed off, leaving the prisoners unwatched and alone, you had no way of using the situation to your advantage. The blacksmiths who had forged the bars had done their job too well. Your meager flesh and bones were not good enough this time. Your lamentation, however, was interrupted by slow footsteps descending down the prison dungeon stairs. The figure that emerged was not one you had ever seen or even imagined ever seeing.

A female, by the looks of it. Average height, cloaked in a dark cloak and hood. The only feature of hers that stood out was her facemask and royal purple hair that flowed down the sides of her head. Now that she had descended, her footsteps were as silent as a feline’s and twice as agile. She stopped right in the middle of the dungeon floor, looking around at all the prisoners with a disinterested look.

“Is there anyone here who was arrested in Hollowbark?”

Your heart probably skipped a beat when you realized she was talking about you. With all that was happening, it probably wasn’t the wisest move to raise your hand, or being blown apart would most likely follow. Fortunately for you, another man in another cell got up and approached the bars of his cell, a crazed look in his eyes.

“Why don’t you take off that cloak and sit on my lap? Then I’ll maybe tell you where I’m from, you little sl-”

The poor fool didn’t get to finish his sentence before the mysterious woman reached for something in her cloak, pulled it out, and blasted the man’s head off with a flintlock pistol shot. Flesh, blood, and whatever little brain cells the man had were splattered all across the nearby wall, a warning to those who continued to play games and no answer her.

“I’ll ask again. Is there anyone here from Hollowbark?”

Perhaps it was your look, or the drop of sweat on your brow, but the strange woman’s head turned towards you, and she proceeded to approach your cell, leaning close to the bars to have a look at you, her exotic purple eyes looking you up and down.

“You. It’s you, isn’t it?”

Before you could answer, she had already holstered her pistol and produced a set of keys, and just like that, in the blink of an eye, the doors to your cell opened up. Like a flash, the woman was in front of you, her hand slamming onto your face, cupping your jaw, turning your head from one side, then to the other, then up, then down as she took a long, good look at you up close.

“You’re certainly the one.” After confirming that, the woman let go of your face and relaxed a bit, exhaling. “We’re getting out of here. You will follow me, understood? Keep close and don’t wander off. Up the stairs, there’s a corpse. Make sure to grab his sword.”

Stepping away from you, the woman turned like a hurricane, her cloak fluttering and the scent of lavender being left in her wake. Not wasting any time, she made her way towards the stairs leading to freedom, but stopped for a moment to look back.

“I am called Akari, and I have sworn to get you out of here alive. Don’t make me fail in my vow.”

—-

How you proceed and what kind of character you make is entirely up to you. Someone strong, or someone weak. Someone determined, or a total waste of life. Everyone has their purpose in this story. Beautiful and ugly alike, for it’s the journey that matters, not how you start it. A trek through the unknown lands, full of danger. A stay in magnificent towns, full of intrigue and the company of characters, both cute and awful.

I do intend to be a sort of a GM for this story, since I have ideas for many, many characters you would interact with, romancable and not. At the end of the day, your character would be the main one, the story centering around them and their journey of self discovery, fate, and destiny. And if you happen to have a butt load of fun along the way - why not? There is never any rush with me. Destiny can wait if you want to have a steamy sauna scene. Your path is your own to determine.

The same goes for sexuality, kinks, and to some extent race. For this plot, I expect from you a human character. I know, I know...boring, duh, but if I can have one thing in this RP, it’s a love for humans. Your character could be straight, bi, or gay. They can have one romantic interest, many, or none at all. Nothing in this world is black and white; the same goes for the character’s feelings. As for the kinks, I’ve ascended beyond a need for lists, since I consider myself without limits. I’ll do pretty much any kink as long as it makes sense for the plot. As to say...I won’t do anything too unrealistic that would shatter my sense of reality. Nothing that defied the laws of common sense and gravity (looking at you hyper people). I do like it when people come to me with their favorite kinks, and not their entire kink lists. That can come later, but what I’m more interested in is...something that sets them apart, something that says more about your personality as a writer, or your character. The kinks should reflect your character. So do mention your top 3, or something close to that, but before writing them down, do think: do they make sense for your character? If yes, I’ll most probably do them <3.

I, of course, also prefer people who are literate, like to write, and express themselves. People who like not only words, but visual/sound cues (I’ll bombard you with my characters’ favorite weapons/sunday clothes/armors). I am not one to jump into a story without plotting, and rushing me is never a good idea. Once we’re both happy with what we’ve discussed, then yes, let’s start, not before. Banter is half the fun in finding an RP partner.

With my preferences, interests, and biography, I could go on and on for hours on end, but I believe I’ve said enough to grab your attention, reader. If you like what I’ve proposed, message me promptly, and let’s talk. If not, that’s alright, honey. I’ll have more plots to come about different topics and in different settings, as soon as the inspiration hits me. Oooh, and that reminds me: if you have a better idea or proposal for any kind of changes for this story, I’m all ears. RP is, of course, a cooperative work, so I do want all your ideas and proposed changes so we can make the story as good as it can possibly be.

With that said,

I have spoken.

“Ah, hello-hello! You’re here about the room, aren’t ya’? Well, come on in and take your shoes off, the floor is quite warm and clean, that’s how we keep it.”

The old granny, half your size, wasn’t exactly what you had expected when you had called in search of a room to rent. Seriously, in today's economy, it was hard to find a place within your budget that would leave you room to pay for other stuff that mattered to you, be it studies, entertainment, or a side business. Renting a room in Dolphin City was the cheapest option by far, since a lot of the old folk had space aplenty.

“Ever since my old man passed, we ain’t had a man around here. Would be good to have one, especially when the trash can is full…and goodness does it get heavy for my back.”

Speaking as she walked, the old woman led you deeper into the house, past some stairs, and into the kitchen area. It was tidier and cleaner than you had expected. At her age, the old woman probably had nothing better to do than to keep things as neat as possible. What was curious was that there were two fridges next to each other, one larger than the other.

“That small one is for you. Keep whatever you wish in there. Oh, darling, would you like some tea and crackers, I…”

Before she could offer to feed you as you’ve never been fed before, her phone rang in a volume you had scarcely heard before, and it was almost painful to your ears, yet she didn’t seem to be bothered at all. Comes with being half-deaf. The old woman grabbed her phone to have a look at it and sighed.

“Oh, goodness me. I had completely forgotten. I’m so sorry, I must rush away, umm… Shirley!”

Apologizing to you profusely and seemingly having forgotten about an appointment, granny yelled out and looked at the ceiling above before grabbing a broomstick and tapping on the wooden boards above forcefully to notify an equally deaf girl living there. A moment later, the sound of a door being opened could be heard on the floor upstairs, along with loud heavy metal music gradually being turned down.

“Whaaat!?” called out a voice from above the stairs, clearly a younger one.

“Shirley, come down here. Gran-Gran has to rush to the yoga class!”

Lazy footsteps would follow as Shirley made her way down the stairs, a little peeved at having her private time be interrupted for something likely menial. Making it to the bottom of the stairs and turning the corner, you would finally see the troublemaker in all her glory. She likely wasn’t expecting visitors and hadn’t been told by her granny that someone was in the house or she likely wouldn’t have arrived with her hair in a messy bun with some wild strands sticking to her sweaty forehead. She was wearing a crop-top sweater and a pair of black thigh-highs, accompanied by a pair of equally dark booty shorts - something one would wear at home and NOT when expecting unknown visitors. As soon as Shirley saw you standing there, she froze.

“Uhh…hi…?”

It was clear she was stunned and that her heart had either stopped or was beating double the usual pace. Her granny might be half blind, half deaf with a barely functioning nose, but to anyone who had all their faculties, it was clear that Shirley had been interrupted in the middle of something. The smell of sex around her, the sweat on her brow and thighs, as well as the sunken eyes…yeah, there was no doubt about it. The beet-red blush on her cheeks didn’t help with the situation one bit.

“Great! Young man, this is Shirley, my granddaughter. She’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping. Don’t worry, she might be a shy girl, but she’ll keep your room clean, always has. Alrighty, I catch you kids later…!”

With that done, Granny made her way towards the exit, grabbed her cane, and in a flash - she was gone, leaving Shirley standing there like a complete fool with a total stranger. A male stranger. The shy virgin in Shirley was unable to even produce complete sentences as she stammered out something while vigorously trying to correct her hair and make herself not appear like a total girlfailure.

“Umm…yeah-yeah the room umm…it’s right over this way…yeah…there upstairs…up the stairs, I mean.”

Before you could get a chance to answer, she had already turned around and jogged up the stairs like a rabbit, her thighs looking ever so magnificently in their bare, pale form. As you would follow, the truth would reveal itself. Shirley hadn’t done her job as of yet and hadn’t made your bed. Granny had told her to do so, but she had been…distracted for a while with whatever she was doing what girls do when left alone for extended periods of time.

“Umm…I’ll just be a minute, please don’t tell Gran-Gran…Also…I’m Shirley, but…damn it, you already knew that, umm…I…I’ll finish your bed.”

Rushing off to get some fresh sheets, you couldn’t help but feel that you hit a jackpot. But what your future relationship would be with Shirley…that’s for you to decide.

\---

How you proceed and what kind of character you make is entirely up to you, the same with your desired relationship with Shirley. I am well aware that the plot is very barebones and quite open-ended, and that was how it was intended to be. I’m not looking for someone who will rush me into starting. I love taking my time discussing what we both like in these kinds of stories, writing down our desires, quirks, and dream scenarios so we can create the best plot imaginable. This plot is quite slice-of-life-ish, but if you have different ideas, inspirations, or anything else, I’m always all ears and welcome any idea, however zany it might be <3.

The same goes for your kinks and things you like, sexually or not. Nothing in this world is black and white; the same goes for the character’s feelings. They can be instantly smitten by Shirley, seeing her as a dream girl, or perhaps it takes time for you to overcome how much of an awkward loser she is (great body tho *insert catcall*). As for the kinks, I’ve ascended beyond a need for lists, since I consider myself without limits. I’ll do pretty much any kink as long as it makes sense for the plot. As to say...I won’t do anything unrealistic in a plot that’s set in a modern, real world. Nothing that defied the laws of nature (looking at you hyper people). I do like it when people come to me with their favorite kinks, and not their entire kink lists. That can come later, but what I’m more interested in is...something that sets you apart, something that says more about your personality as a writer, or your character. The kinks should reflect your character. So do mention your top 3, or something close to that but before writing them down, do think: do they make sense in the plot? If yes, I’ll most probably do them <3. And if you mention something as basic as ‘kissing’ I will kick you in the groin. Don’t test me. If you need to add something so mundane in your top 3, then at least add an interesting body part you’d like to do it to.

I, of course, also prefer people who are literate, like to write, and express themselves. People who like not only words, but visual/sound cues (i’ll bombard you with Shirley’s favorite thursday tops/ fav songs/porn she likes). I am not one to jump into a story without plotting, and rushing me is never a good idea. Once we’re both happy with what we’ve discussed, then yes, let’s start, not before. Banter is half the fun in finding an RP partner.

With my preferences, interests, and biography, I could go on and on for hours on end, but I believe I’ve said enough to grab your attention, reader. If you like what I’ve proposed, message me promptly, and let’s talk. If not, that’s alright, honey. I’ll have more plots to come about different topics and in different settings, as soon as the inspiration hits me. Oooh, and that reminds me: if you have a better idea or proposal for any kind of changes for this story, I’m all ears. RP is, of course, a cooperative work, so I do want all your ideas and proposed changes so we can make the story as good as it can possibly be. Secret password: do tell, in your nerdiness, what video game are you playing with her?

With that said,

I have spoken.

[Cyberpunk, OCxCC, No V, Dark/Wholesome]

The roads of the badlands had always been eerily silent and empty. Almost frighteningly so. Only a few dared make their way along the dirt roads that showed up on no maps. Breaking down in the desert would be the least of your worries. The wraiths, scavs, and other people looking to profit from your fuck-ups were aplenty. Nothing Panam hadn’t dealt with before, of course. Only a fool went out of the city or camp without an iron…and she had a few.

“Kill it all…for a like supreme.”

Quietly singing along with some old ass rocker boy band, Panam was tapping her fingers on her steering wheel as her Thorton roared onwards and upwards, over the arid hills and sandswept roads. She had picked up her cargo only an hour ago, and so far it all looked quite dandy. She had made it over and around two checkpoints already, and even avoided some gonk militech patrol along the way.

CLANG CLANG CLANG

The rhythmic banging sound coming from her trunk did spook Panam, if only for a second. As far as she knew, she was transporting some stolen biotechnica equipment to a buyer in Night City. She was told it was definitely ‘biological’ but nothing more than that. The pay was better if she didn’t ask questions, usually. But no one had said anything to her about something being alive back in her trunk. That changed everything.

Hitting on the brakes, Panam made her warhorse come to a complete stop, conjuring up a bit of a dust cloud around herself. Not a wise move, but Panam hoped there would be no one around to see that. Fingers crossed. Grabbing her iron out of her driver’s side door, she checked the chamber to be sure it’s locked and loaded. Getting out, the badass smuggler rushed over to the back of her rig and popped open the trunk. Sure enough, there it was, the massive black container that took two men to put in. Now that she thought of it…it was just the right size to fit a human.

Facepalming herself with her gun still in her hand, she muttered: “Fucking hell, Dave. Sure as fuck am not doing any more jobs for the Silent Riders. Human trafficking, that’s just…tsk…”

Looking at the release mechanism, she soon found that to open it, you’d need to enter the correct fingerprint.

“Fuck that. “ Panam said to herself before smashing on the mechanism with the butt of her gun, once, and then twice, making sparks fly in all directions and all the programming to go haywire. But unexpectedly, the lock did open all the way, revealing inside just what Panam had suspected. Except…she hadn’t expected them to be butt naked.

“This is some fucked up shit…ok…” said the gorgeous smuggler, leaning on the trunk herself now, awfully close to you, still holding onto her iron tightly in case you were dumber than you looked. “You best tell me who the fuck you are, and quickly. I swear to god, if you’re some suit, I will…”

Panam’s rage-filled venting was interrupted by a beeping sound from the car’s computer, making her whip her head around and look at it. A second later, an AI voice would follow up: “Warning. Sandstorm detected in the area. Time until arrival, ETA: 5 minutes. Intensity: Extreme.”

Grunting in displeasure, Panam double checked by rushing to her seat to see where it was on the local map. Confirming that it was indeed one queen of a storm, she smashed her fist into her steering wheel. After a long moment of deliberation, the smuggler queen shook her head and stored her iron back in the driver’s side door where she had found it. Next, she rushed back to the naked individual in the back of her car, all tied up.

“Sadly, we don’t have time to play Twenty Questions. If you want to live, come with me.”

Whipping out a knife from around her belt, she proceeded to cut loose the cable ties holding your wrists and ankles together. Even as she did so, the wind was clearly starting to pick up. The sandstorm itself was only now appearing on the horizon, but apparently, it was moving fast, and the faster it moved, the deadlier it was. Panam, by the looks of it, wasn’t too afraid of herself or you, but more about her dear Thorton and the fresh paint job she had done on it. Such was the life in the badlands.

“Passenger side. Go!”

Rushing to get herself in her seat, she booted up her truck once again, making sure it was ready for the fast pace she was about to set. Flicking a few release switches and pressing a few throttle buttons, she didn’t even wait for you to close your door before the Thorton sped off, practically jumping over the tiny dunes that had formed in the desert.

“There’s a shelter. Hopefully, we’ll make it,” she would say to comfort you and herself. After a brief pause and after getting on a straighter road, she would glance at you again before adding, “ I’m Panam. Use it or not, I don’t care.”

—-

How you proceed and what kind of character you make is entirely up to you, the same with your desired relationship with Panam. I am well aware that the plot is very barebones and quite open-ended, and that was how it was intended to be. I’m not looking for someone who will rush me into starting. I love taking my time discussing what we both like in these kinds of stories, writing down our desires, quirks, and dream scenarios so we can create the best plot imaginable. This plot is, of course, Cyberpunk-ish, so if you have any additional ideas, inspirations, or anything else, I’m always all ears and welcome any idea, however zany it might be <3.

The same goes for your kinks and things you like, sexually or not. Nothing in this world is black and white; the same goes for the character’s feelings. They can be instantly smitten by Panam, seeing her as a dream girl, or perhaps it takes time for you to overcome how much of an bitch she is (great body tho \*insert catcall\*). As for the kinks, I’ve ascended beyond a need for lists, since I consider myself without limits. I’ll do pretty much any kink as long as it makes sense for the plot. As to say...I won’t do anything unrealistic in a plot that’s set in a modern, real world. Nothing that defied the laws of nature (looking at you hyper people). I do like it when people come to me with their favorite kinks, and not their entire kink lists. That can come later, but what I’m more interested in is...something that sets you apart, something that says more about your personality as a writer, or your character. The kinks should reflect your character. So do mention your top 3, or something close to that but before writing them down, do think: do they make sense in the plot? If yes, I’ll most probably do them <3. And if you mention something as basic as ‘kissing’ I will kick you in the groin. Don’t test me. If you need to add something so mundane in your top 3, then at least add an interesting body part you’d like to do it to.

I, of course, also prefer people who are literate, like to write, and express themselves. People who like not only words, but visual/sound cues (i’ll bombard you with Panam’s favorite going-out tops/ fav songs/porn she likes). I am not one to jump into a story without plotting, and rushing me is never a good idea. Once we’re both happy with what we’ve discussed, then yes, let’s start, not before. Banter is half the fun in finding an RP partner.

With my preferences, interests, and biography, I could go on and on for hours on end, but I believe I’ve said enough to grab your attention, reader. If you like what I’ve proposed, message me promptly, and let’s talk. If not, that’s alright, honey. I’ll have more plots to come about different topics and in different settings, as soon as the inspiration hits me. Oooh, and that reminds me: if you have a better idea or proposal for any kind of changes for this story, I’m all ears. RP is, of course, a cooperative work, so I do want all your ideas and proposed changes so we can make the story as good as it can possibly be. Secret password: do tell what position are you daydreaming of having Panam in? Just watching her be in or ‘doing’ her, both work.

With that said,

See you around, Choom.

&#x200B;

[Cyberpunk, OCxCC, No V, Dark/Wholesome]

The roads of the badlands had always been eerily silent and empty. Almost frighteningly so. Only a few dared make their way along the dirt roads that showed up on no maps. Breaking down in the desert would be the least of your worries. The wraiths, scavs, and other people looking to profit from your fuck-ups were aplenty. Nothing Panam hadn’t dealt with before, of course. Only a fool went out of the city or camp without an iron…and she had a few.

“Kill it all…for a like supreme.”

Quietly singing along with some old ass rocker boy band, Panam was tapping her fingers on her steering wheel as her Thorton roared onwards and upwards, over the arid hills and sandswept roads. She had picked up her cargo only an hour ago, and so far it all looked quite dandy. She had made it over and around two checkpoints already, and even avoided some gonk militech patrol along the way.

CLANG CLANG CLANG

The rhythmic banging sound coming from her trunk did spook Panam, if only for a second. As far as she knew, she was transporting some stolen biotechnica equipment to a buyer in Night City. She was told it was definitely ‘biological’ but nothing more than that. The pay was better if she didn’t ask questions, usually. But no one had said anything to her about something being alive back in her trunk. That changed everything.

Hitting on the brakes, Panam made her warhorse come to a complete stop, conjuring up a bit of a dust cloud around herself. Not a wise move, but Panam hoped there would be no one around to see that. Fingers crossed. Grabbing her iron out of her driver’s side door, she checked the chamber to be sure it’s locked and loaded. Getting out, the badass smuggler rushed over to the back of her rig and popped open the trunk. Sure enough, there it was, the massive black container that took two men to put in. Now that she thought of it…it was just the right size to fit a human.

Facepalming herself with her gun still in her hand, she muttered: “Fucking hell, Dave. Sure as fuck am not doing any more jobs for the Silent Riders. Human trafficking, that’s just…tsk…”

Looking at the release mechanism, she soon found that to open it, you’d need to enter the correct fingerprint.

“Fuck that. “ Panam said to herself before smashing on the mechanism with the butt of her gun, once, and then twice, making sparks fly in all directions and all the programming to go haywire. But unexpectedly, the lock did open all the way, revealing inside just what Panam had suspected. Except…she hadn’t expected them to be butt naked.

“This is some fucked up shit…ok…” said the gorgeous smuggler, leaning on the trunk herself now, awfully close to you, still holding onto her iron tightly in case you were dumber than you looked. “You best tell me who the fuck you are, and quickly. I swear to god, if you’re some suit, I will…”

Panam’s rage-filled venting was interrupted by a beeping sound from the car’s computer, making her whip her head around and look at it. A second later, an AI voice would follow up: “Warning. Sandstorm detected in the area. Time until arrival, ETA: 5 minutes. Intensity: Extreme.”

Grunting in displeasure, Panam double checked by rushing to her seat to see where it was on the local map. Confirming that it was indeed one queen of a storm, she smashed her fist into her steering wheel. After a long moment of deliberation, the smuggler queen shook her head and stored her iron back in the driver’s side door where she had found it. Next, she rushed back to the naked individual in the back of her car, all tied up.

“Sadly, we don’t have time to play Twenty Questions. If you want to live, come with me.”

Whipping out a knife from around her belt, she proceeded to cut loose the cable ties holding your wrists and ankles together. Even as she did so, the wind was clearly starting to pick up. The sandstorm itself was only now appearing on the horizon, but apparently, it was moving fast, and the faster it moved, the deadlier it was. Panam, by the looks of it, wasn’t too afraid of herself or you, but more about her dear Thorton and the fresh paint job she had done on it. Such was the life in the badlands.

“Passenger side. Go!”

Rushing to get herself in her seat, she booted up her truck once again, making sure it was ready for the fast pace she was about to set. Flicking a few release switches and pressing a few throttle buttons, she didn’t even wait for you to close your door before the Thorton sped off, practically jumping over the tiny dunes that had formed in the desert.

“There’s a shelter. Hopefully, we’ll make it,” she would say to comfort you and herself. After a brief pause and after getting on a straighter road, she would glance at you again before adding, “ I’m Panam. Use it or not, I don’t care.”

—-

How you proceed and what kind of character you make is entirely up to you, the same with your desired relationship with Panam. I am well aware that the plot is very barebones and quite open-ended, and that was how it was intended to be. I’m not looking for someone who will rush me into starting. I love taking my time discussing what we both like in these kinds of stories, writing down our desires, quirks, and dream scenarios so we can create the best plot imaginable. This plot is, of course, Cyberpunk-ish, so if you have any additional ideas, inspirations, or anything else, I’m always all ears and welcome any idea, however zany it might be <3.

The same goes for your kinks and things you like, sexually or not. Nothing in this world is black and white; the same goes for the character’s feelings. They can be instantly smitten by Panam, seeing her as a dream girl, or perhaps it takes time for you to overcome how much of an bitch she is (great body tho *insert catcall*). As for the kinks, I’ve ascended beyond a need for lists, since I consider myself without limits. I’ll do pretty much any kink as long as it makes sense for the plot. As to say...I won’t do anything unrealistic in a plot that’s set in a modern, real world. Nothing that defied the laws of nature (looking at you hyper people). I do like it when people come to me with their favorite kinks, and not their entire kink lists. That can come later, but what I’m more interested in is...something that sets you apart, something that says more about your personality as a writer, or your character. The kinks should reflect your character. So do mention your top 3, or something close to that but before writing them down, do think: do they make sense in the plot? If yes, I’ll most probably do them <3. And if you mention something as basic as ‘kissing’ I will kick you in the groin. Don’t test me. If you need to add something so mundane in your top 3, then at least add an interesting body part you’d like to do it to.

I, of course, also prefer people who are literate, like to write, and express themselves. People who like not only words, but visual/sound cues (i’ll bombard you with Panam’s favorite going-out tops/ fav songs/porn she likes). I am not one to jump into a story without plotting, and rushing me is never a good idea. Once we’re both happy with what we’ve discussed, then yes, let’s start, not before. Banter is half the fun in finding an RP partner.

With my preferences, interests, and biography, I could go on and on for hours on end, but I believe I’ve said enough to grab your attention, reader. If you like what I’ve proposed, message me promptly, and let’s talk. If not, that’s alright, honey. I’ll have more plots to come about different topics and in different settings, as soon as the inspiration hits me. Oooh, and that reminds me: if you have a better idea or proposal for any kind of changes for this story, I’m all ears. RP is, of course, a cooperative work, so I do want all your ideas and proposed changes so we can make the story as good as it can possibly be. Secret password: do tell what position are you daydreaming of having Panam in? Just watching her be in or ‘doing’ her, both work.

With that said,

See you around, Choom.

[Cyberpunk, OCxCC, No V, Dark/Wholesome]
---
The roads of the badlands had always been eerily silent and empty. Almost frighteningly so. Only a few dared make their way along the dirt roads that showed up on no maps. Breaking down in the desert would be the least of your worries. The wraiths, scavs, and other people looking to profit from your fuck-ups were aplenty. Nothing Panam hadn’t dealt with before, of course. Only a fool went out of the city or camp without an iron…and she had a few.

“Kill it all…for a like supreme.”

Quietly singing along with some old ass rocker boy band, Panam was tapping her fingers on her steering wheel as her Thorton roared onwards and upwards, over the arid hills and sandswept roads. She had picked up her cargo only an hour ago, and so far it all looked quite dandy. She had made it over and around two checkpoints already, and even avoided some gonk militech patrol along the way.

CLANG CLANG CLANG

The rhythmic banging sound coming from her trunk did spook Panam, if only for a second. As far as she knew, she was transporting some stolen biotechnica equipment to a buyer in Night City. She was told it was definitely ‘biological’ but nothing more than that. The pay was better if she didn’t ask questions, usually. But no one had said anything to her about something being alive back in her trunk. That changed everything.

Hitting on the brakes, Panam made her warhorse come to a complete stop, conjuring up a bit of a dust cloud around herself. Not a wise move, but Panam hoped there would be no one around to see that. Fingers crossed. Grabbing her iron out of her driver’s side door, she checked the chamber to be sure it’s locked and loaded. Getting out, the badass smuggler rushed over to the back of her rig and popped open the trunk. Sure enough, there it was, the massive black container that took two men to put in. Now that she thought of it…it was just the right size to fit a human.

Facepalming herself with her gun still in her hand, she muttered: “Fucking hell, Dave. Sure as fuck am not doing any more jobs for the Silent Riders. Human trafficking, that’s just…tsk…”

Looking at the release mechanism, she soon found that to open it, you’d need to enter the correct fingerprint.

“Fuck that. “ Panam said to herself before smashing on the mechanism with the butt of her gun, once, and then twice, making sparks fly in all directions and all the programming to go haywire. But unexpectedly, the lock did open all the way, revealing inside just what Panam had suspected. Except…she hadn’t expected them to be butt naked.

“This is some fucked up shit…ok…” said the gorgeous smuggler, leaning on the trunk herself now, awfully close to you, still holding onto her iron tightly in case you were dumber than you looked. “You best tell me who the fuck you are, and quickly. I swear to god, if you’re some suit, I will…”

Panam’s rage-filled venting was interrupted by a beeping sound from the car’s computer, making her whip her head around and look at it. A second later, an AI voice would follow up: “Warning. Sandstorm detected in the area. Time until arrival, ETA: 5 minutes. Intensity: Extreme.”

Grunting in displeasure, Panam double checked by rushing to her seat to see where it was on the local map. Confirming that it was indeed one queen of a storm, she smashed her fist into her steering wheel. After a long moment of deliberation, the smuggler queen shook her head and stored her iron back in the driver’s side door where she had found it. Next, she rushed back to the naked individual in the back of her car, all tied up.

“Sadly, we don’t have time to play Twenty Questions. If you want to live, come with me.”

Whipping out a knife from around her belt, she proceeded to cut loose the cable ties holding your wrists and ankles together. Even as she did so, the wind was clearly starting to pick up. The sandstorm itself was only now appearing on the horizon, but apparently, it was moving fast, and the faster it moved, the deadlier it was. Panam, by the looks of it, wasn’t too afraid of herself or you, but more about her dear Thorton and the fresh paint job she had done on it. Such was the life in the badlands.

“Passenger side. Go!”

Rushing to get herself in her seat, she booted up her truck once again, making sure it was ready for the fast pace she was about to set. Flicking a few release switches and pressing a few throttle buttons, she didn’t even wait for you to close your door before the Thorton sped off, practically jumping over the tiny dunes that had formed in the desert.

“There’s a shelter. Hopefully, we’ll make it,” she would say to comfort you and herself. After a brief pause and after getting on a straighter road, she would glance at you again before adding, “ I’m Panam. Use it or not, I don’t care.”

—-

How you proceed and what kind of character you make is entirely up to you, the same with your desired relationship with Panam. I am well aware that the plot is very barebones and quite open-ended, and that was how it was intended to be. I’m not looking for someone who will rush me into starting. I love taking my time discussing what we both like in these kinds of stories, writing down our desires, quirks, and dream scenarios so we can create the best plot imaginable. This plot is, of course, Cyberpunk-ish, so if you have any additional ideas, inspirations, or anything else, I’m always all ears and welcome any idea, however zany it might be <3.

The same goes for your kinks and things you like, sexually or not. Nothing in this world is black and white; the same goes for the character’s feelings. They can be instantly smitten by Panam, seeing her as a dream girl, or perhaps it takes time for you to overcome how much of an bitch she is (great body tho insert catcall). As for the kinks, I’ve ascended beyond a need for lists, since I consider myself without limits. I’ll do pretty much any kink as long as it makes sense for the plot. As to say...I won’t do anything unrealistic in a plot that’s set in a modern, real world. Nothing that defied the laws of nature (looking at you hyper people). I do like it when people come to me with their favorite kinks, and not their entire kink lists. That can come later, but what I’m more interested in is...something that sets you apart, something that says more about your personality as a writer, or your character. The kinks should reflect your character. So do mention your top 3, or something close to that but before writing them down, do think: do they make sense in the plot? If yes, I’ll most probably do them <3. And if you mention something as basic as ‘kissing’ I will kick you in the groin. Don’t test me. If you need to add something so mundane in your top 3, then at least add an interesting body part you’d like to do it to.

I, of course, also prefer people who are literate, like to write, and express themselves. People who like not only words, but visual/sound cues (i’ll bombard you with Panam’s favorite going-out tops/ fav songs/porn she likes). I am not one to jump into a story without plotting, and rushing me is never a good idea. Once we’re both happy with what we’ve discussed, then yes, let’s start, not before. Banter is half the fun in finding an RP partner.

With my preferences, interests, and biography, I could go on and on for hours on end, but I believe I’ve said enough to grab your attention, reader. If you like what I’ve proposed, message me promptly, and let’s talk. If not, that’s alright, honey. I’ll have more plots to come about different topics and in different settings, as soon as the inspiration hits me. Oooh, and that reminds me: if you have a better idea or proposal for any kind of changes for this story, I’m all ears. RP is, of course, a cooperative work, so I do want all your ideas and proposed changes so we can make the story as good as it can possibly be. Secret password: do tell what position are you daydreaming of having Panam in? Just watching her be in or ‘doing’ her, both work.

With that said,
See you around, Choom.

[Post-Apocalyptic / Dark / Gritty / Survival]

Date: March 15th, 2026.

Location: Amber City Police Station

Timeline: 2 days since the start of the epidemic...

For not complying with the anti-trespassing laws, you were arrested by the Amber City police. They did not care that your apartment apparently was located inside the quarantine zone. Anyone found trying to sneak in was not treated kindly, stuffed in a police car, and taken to the station to be thrown into one of the temporary cells before they could be evacuated to a more safe city with a fully staffed station. Even while Deputy Mills was leading you in cuffs through the station, you could clearly see many empty desks, while some that were still there were packing their stuff in boxes.

“Put that dumbass in ‘3’, April,” said the Sheriff, who had been the one to decide to put you in cuffs. A black, bald, fat sludge of a bastard, more interested in finding the location of the doughnut box than the truth or justice. Even now, some pink glaze was stuck on his double chin as he sat down, clearly tired from having to walk for five minutes.

“Yes, Sir,” answered Deputy April Mills, who was an entirely different case from the Sheriff. A recent graduate from the Police Academy, finishing first in her class with honors. Many thought that her seeking a posting in Amber City was a waste of her talents, but it being her hometown - there really was no choice. Home was home. And unlike her boss, April at least gave a shit about the people of the city.

Leading you into cell number 3, she sat you down on the bunkbead before pulling up your hands and unlocking the handcuffs. From your seated position, you could get a pretty good look at April, looming above you. About five foot eight, in her warm police uniform consisting of combat pants, a sweater, and an armored vest with her badge neatly attached to it. A walkie-talkie, a couple of flashbangs, and a fully loaded gun at her side completed her look. Her medium-length dark brown hair barely reached the middle of her neck, and were neatly tucked behind her ears, damp though they were. The rain from the weather outside had left her face quite shiny, and her unform dripping water into your cell.

“Just hold here for a bit, alright? Once we’re ready, we’ll find you a transport to the next city over, where I’m pretty sure you’ll be released. I think my boss just wants to add you to the record of arrests so he would look good in front of the superiors,” said April before chuckling, more whispering it down to you so the Sheriff in the next room wouldn’t overhear.

Stepping back, the Deputy closed the gates to your cell, it locking automatically behind her. She was about to leave when she remembered something and turned her head to you once again, leaning close to the bars, whispering once more: “Do you want something to eat? I’m pretty sure the cook has already left the city, but the vending machine should still wor...”

PANG

PANG

PANG

The loud sound of a firearm, most likely a revolver, being discharged interrupted April before she could finish speaking. The sound even woke up the Sheriff, who was dozing off in his chair. The fat slob grunted as he got to his feet, his face contorting into something wicked.

“What the fuck is that!? I swear to god if Jenkins left his gun’s safety off again, I’ll beat his ass!” said the Sheriff, marching towards the door and the increasingly chaotic and weird sounds coming from that direction. Only in that quiet when no one was speaking could more than gunshots be heard...shuffling and screaming. When the door to the rest of the station was opened, all was revealed.

The fat Sheriff didn’t have time to react when Deputy Jenkins, his head barely attached to his neck, lunged forward and grabbed the Sheriff by the shoulders, sinking his teeth into the fat rolls of the Sheriff's neck. Screams of agony followed as blood went in all directions. Deputy Jenkins bit again and again, like a rabid animal, he tore the flesh away, devouring some that he could, his pale face covered in blood, and his eyes - yellow-ish and bloodshot.

Acting on pure instinct, April pulled out her pistol the second the Sheriff managed to pull away from Jenkin’s grasp. Two quick taps later, whatever had been left of Jenkin’s head slid down his torso as April was deadly in her aim. Rushing towards the Sheriff, the Deputy quickly understood there was nothing she could do. Her boss was already dead. Looking out into the rest of the station, April gasped and quickly slammed the door shut, putting her weight against it. And at just the right time, because a second later, there were loud bangs on the door, dozens of them from many hands trying to get in, voices growling.

Thinking on her feet, April scanned the room before her eyes landed on you, still in your cell. She thought for a moment, grunted, and then shouted out: “Move your bed off the wall! T-There’s ngh...there should be a hole covered by a plywood sheet. Rip it off and go! Now!” With the door being banged in, it took all of April’s strength and weight to keep it closed. When you did as she instructed and moved the bed aside, there was indeed a plywood sheet covering something, no doubt a quick and cheap remedy to a past escape attempt that the now-dead Sheriff was too lazy/cheap to fix. Removing it was no problem whatsoever, and behind it...a hole leading into the next room over, which, by the looks of it, was the showers, next to the female locker rooms.

“Go! I’ll find you!” exclaimed April before you escaped your cell. The last thing you heard were the doors finally being banged open and the growling of half a dozen wild voices, soon followed by gunfire. But what mattered the most right now...was for you to make sure you survived. The hot deputy could certainly wait, if she wasn't dead yet. First things first...you needed to understand what to do next to survive this.

—-

Yes, yes, call me unoriginal because yes, this story idea was heavily inspired by a certain survival horror game. What can I say, I’m a fan of the vibe and wanted to put my own twists on it, change some other aspects, and improve where I can. At the end of the day, this is still DPP, so I hope to find someone who’s not all *‘sexsexsexsex plap plap plap getpregnantgetpregnantgetpregnant’*. That stuff is fun, for sure, but come now - I wouldn’t have written my starter like I did if I only wanted smut.  It’s dirty pen pals. Dirty can be...uhhhh....zombie brains? But don’t worry, there’s a 99% chance you’ll get to fuck someone (unless you die...then yeah uhh...you don’t get to fuck anyone, you get fucked instead...by life).

What I expect from you: For you to design your own character the way you want them to be. Strong, cowardly, young, old, male, female, into thigh highs or low highs(?). The character is entirely up to you. Despite everything I have written above, I’m very open to changes and amending stuff, so don’t hesitate to suggest something if you have something on your mind :).

How the story will continue, I hear you asking? Well, I am quite prepared to GM your character’s journey. They are the main character after all. This is their story. I also have a couple of riddles and puzzles readied for when I want to pose a challenge for you and make it entertaining aside from just...killing zombies, running, and looking at April’s ass, fun as those activities are. I am also considering the possibility of involving dice rolls, but that would require more thought on my part. Undecided as of yet, do tell me what you think (this is another rule - a bitch needs reviews, feedback, and banter to keep this going. Being silent and ‘only rp’ feels too much like work.)

There’s a shit ton to still talk about, but as for now - that would be it. Do tell me your thoughts and send a message if this sounds like something that would interest you. As for the mandatory password, do mention what you would do when, in the female locker rooms, you’d find April’s locker unlocked and openable? Is there something inside that would interest you? This is a creative question, no wrong answers. Just wanna see how creative/fun/perverted you can be (for my own amusement, muhaha). But with that said -

I have spoken.

[Sci-Fi, Prisoner x Captor, Hella-Gay]

“Oh, good, you’re finally awake...”

Your vision was unclear. It was all a haze, with a great fog obscuring or blurring everything around you. Your head hurt like hell, throbbing with each heartbeat. Physically, you didn’t seem too hurt. No more than usual. It was more akin to a really bad hangover after a three-day bender. And then there was that hum in the air, accompanied by constant thudding.

As your vision cleared and you got a chance to inspect your surroundings, everything became a tiny bit clearer. The hum? The sounds of a starship engine doing its work. Apparently, you were lying in a room just next to it. The thudding? Well, that came from a tiny ball being thrown against a wall again and again by the woman who had greeted your waking self.

“Do take it slow. The last thing I need is you vomiting all over my ship’s floor,” said the strange woman, swiping some wild raven hair out of her vision. When you got a chance to look at her, one thing was clear - you had no idea who she was. She was undeniably gorgeous, some may even call her ‘hot’, but those who did might rethink saying that when seeing the scars and piercings on her face, accompanied by a very real pistol in her holster.

It was only a moment later that you noticed something - there was something around your left ankle and wrist. Two cuffs connected to chains, which in turn were connected to the bed you had been sleeping in. The chains, while quite thin, were forged out of quite a durable material - not something a human could possibly break by force or ordinary tool. In length, they wouldn’t allow you to move far at all, only around the small bedroom you were in, no further.

“Ah, I see you’ve noticed the cuffs. It’s about time we touch base and lay some ground rules, don’t you think? First of all, you probably don’t remember much of anything right now. A nasty side effect of the paralysing drug I administered to you. Worry not, the amnesia is only temporary, and it should all come back to you in a day’s time. Second, you’re on my ship - Athena. Where we’re going and why - that’s not your concern. All you need to know is that the contract for you said ‘Dead or Alive’, so be grateful for your current state of being alive.”

After finishing with the ‘boring’ parts of the introduction, Ayana the Bounty Hunter stopped idly throwing her toy ball against the wall, catching it, and twirling it in her fingers before looking at you. Her amber eyes showed such a range of emotions. If before they were carefree and even borderline ‘friendly’, now they took on the visage of pure seriousness and concentration.

“Now listen here. This trip will take us around two weeks. I could be heartless and keep you tied up the whole way, but that would not be my first choice. To that end...”

Ayana reached into her coat’s pocket and withdrew a tiny device that looked an awful lot like a detonator, with a red button and everything. Quite a classic choice on her part.

“This here is ‘God’, and that little implant on the back of your neck that you probably don’t even feel, well...that’s ‘God’s Messenger’.” said Ayana, gently running her thumb over the device, caressing it in her hand. There truly was something on the back of your neck. Something tiny, yet solid - also not something that’s removed by mere human hands. “The deal is this. You scream, yell, or anyway annoy me with your sounds? Zap. You damage anything of mine, a plate or the bedsheets? Guess what - Zap. During the ‘daytime’ hours, you will be allowed to walk around the ship. The cuffs will unlock for a time. But there are rules - you come anywhere near me without permission, you will be zapped on the highest intensity. It can sense your proximity to me, so don’t even try anything. If you’re not back in your room and have put on your cuffs by 9PM - Zap. The rest of the rules you’ll figure out as we go, but there is one rule that stands above the rest. One rule that defines them all and connects them.”

Standing up from her seated position in the corner of your room, Ayana walked over to you in two steps. Standing by your bed, she was looming over you in her impressive stature. Reaching down in a flash, she would grab your hair and yank it back by force, forcing your mouth to part open. A second later, that opening was filled by the barrel of a gun and the metallic taste of it. You could only wonder if that pistol has taken any lives, and if so...how many? By the looks of Ayana, more than you could imagine.

“First and ultimate rule - Don’t. Fuck. With. Ayana.”

You could see the woman’s index finger ever so gently caress the trigger, even putting a little pressure on it, keeping you in limbo between life and death. But keeping you in that state was never her intention. Everything that’s interesting happens in life, after all. Death, no matter how much of it Ayana had dealt, ultimately was a huge bore. A grin formed on her lips as she withdrew the pistol from your mouth, cleaning your own saliva off in your shirt.

“That rule does not apply if one is sharing my bed, of course. Then it’s the exact opposite, but that’s the exception. But enough about my empty bed, what I’m more interested in is...how did you manage to get a bounty on your stupid head?”

—-

Oh, yeah. Sci-fi, that genre which never fails me. First things first, sorry so sorry for ‘controlling’ your character, but I assure you that it was only a creative choice to set the scene and the vibe I was going for. To help you get immersed in the plot. In a normal RP environment, I would not be writing for your character at all, just to be clear. Thanks for accepting my apology, you’re an angel.

As for what I’m looking for here, I hope it was clear from the plot. A character of your own making. Someone who has had a bounty put on their head. For what reason? That is for you to decide. Does your character know? Or do they not know? Totally up to you. It wouldn’t be very fun if I had all the answers now, would it? The same goes for your character’s...well...characteristics. Are they strong/weak? Badass/Nerdy? Crushing hard on Ayana or despising her? Make your character and make them your own. Something you would truly enjoy putting out there. As long as they’re...well...human (human supremacy forever, baby).

When it comes to the plot and how it could look moving forward, that’s also up for discussion, but what I was picturing was a good old enemies-to-lovers type of pairing, or something similar to it, since the characters aren’t exactly enemies, are they <3. I adore everything about moral and interpersonal dilemmas, as well as internal conflicts. Growing fond of someone you shouldn’t. Learning more about each other and realizing that under different circumstances, they could have been the best of lovers. But the beauty of it is...they still could be. The path ahead is not set in stone. Will the hot bounty hunter go through with her delivery? Will the equally hot prisoner try to escape every chance she gets? Simple questions, but oh so fun to play out and find out the answers to.

Since all of you here are degenerates (me too UwU), one has to discuss kinks, too, eh? Well, I find kinklists a bit overused. They give me little insight into you as a player. I’d rather only hear about a few of your absolute favourites, the ones that define you and make you who you are. I myself might be quite fucking kinky with an infinite amount of kinks, but if I started naming all the positions/places to lick/ways to do it - we’d be here all day, and you’d not get any wiser from it, trust me. Suffice it to say, sex is fluid and quite easy to do. It’s your ideas, vibe, and nerdiness on the subject that attracts me the most - not the amount of holes you can speedrun through. I hope I’ve been clear, hehe.

And then we come to the last part, the mandatory horny question of the day, so I know that you know that I know what you have to know, y’know? So the question: What cute nickname would you want Ayana to have for you that would make you weak in the knees? And bonus question: What cute/horny nickname would you wanna call Ayana? Ok, that’s it. I’m shutting this party down. Do send a message, bitch.

*[Sci-Fi, Prisoner x Captor, Hella-Gay]*

“Oh, good, you’re finally awake...”

Your vision was unclear. It was all a haze, with a great fog obscuring or blurring everything around you. Your head hurt like hell, throbbing with each heartbeat. Physically, you didn’t seem too hurt. No more than usual. It was more akin to a really bad hangover after a three-day bender. And then there was that hum in the air, accompanied by constant thudding.

As your vision cleared and you got a chance to inspect your surroundings, everything became a tiny bit clearer. The hum? The sounds of a starship engine doing its work. Apparently, you were lying in a room just next to it. The thudding? Well, that came from a tiny ball being thrown against a wall again and again by the woman who had greeted your waking self.

“Do take it slow. The last thing I need is you vomiting all over my ship’s floor,” said the strange woman, swiping some wild raven hair out of her vision. When you got a chance to look at her, one thing was clear - you had no idea who she was. She was undeniably gorgeous, some may even call her ‘hot’, but those who did might rethink saying that when seeing the scars and piercings on her face, accompanied by a very real pistol in her holster.

It was only a moment later that you noticed something - there was something around your left ankle and wrist. Two cuffs connected to chains, which in turn were connected to the bed you had been sleeping in. The chains, while quite thin, were forged out of quite a durable material - not something a human could possibly break by force or ordinary tool. In length, they wouldn’t allow you to move far at all, only around the small bedroom you were in, no further.

“Ah, I see you’ve noticed the cuffs. It’s about time we touch base and lay some ground rules, don’t you think? First of all, you probably don’t remember much of anything right now. A nasty side effect of the paralysing drug I administered to you. Worry not, the amnesia is only temporary, and it should all come back to you in a day’s time. Second, you’re on my ship - Athena. Where we’re going and why - that’s not your concern. All you need to know is that the contract for you said ‘Dead or Alive’, so be grateful for your current state of being alive.”

After finishing with the ‘boring’ parts of the introduction, Ayana the Bounty Hunter stopped idly throwing her toy ball against the wall, catching it, and twirling it in her fingers before looking at you. Her amber eyes showed such a range of emotions. If before they were carefree and even borderline ‘friendly’, now they took on the visage of pure seriousness and concentration.

“Now listen here. This trip will take us around two weeks. I could be heartless and keep you tied up the whole way, but that would not be my first choice. To that end...”

Ayana reached into her coat’s pocket and withdrew a tiny device that looked an awful lot like a detonator, with a red button and everything. Quite a classic choice on her part.

“This here is ‘God’, and that little implant on the back of your neck that you probably don’t even feel, well...that’s ‘God’s Messenger’.” said Ayana, gently running her thumb over the device, caressing it in her hand. There truly was something on the back of your neck. Something tiny, yet solid - also not something that’s removed by mere human hands. “The deal is this. You scream, yell, or anyway annoy me with your sounds? Zap. You damage anything of mine, a plate or the bedsheets? Guess what - Zap. During the ‘daytime’ hours, you will be allowed to walk around the ship. The cuffs will unlock for a time. But there are rules - you come anywhere near me without permission, you will be zapped on the highest intensity. It can sense your proximity to me, so don’t even try anything. If you’re not back in your room and have put on your cuffs by 9PM - Zap. The rest of the rules you’ll figure out as we go, but there is one rule that stands above the rest. One rule that defines them all and connects them.”

Standing up from her seated position in the corner of your room, Ayana walked over to you in two steps. Standing by your bed, she was looming over you in her impressive stature. Reaching down in a flash, she would grab your hair and yank it back by force, forcing your mouth to part open. A second later, that opening was filled by the barrel of a gun and the metallic taste of it. You could only wonder if that pistol has taken any lives, and if so...how many? By the looks of Ayana, more than you could imagine.

“First and ultimate rule - Don’t. Fuck. With. Ayana.”

You could see the woman’s index finger ever so gently caress the trigger, even putting a little pressure on it, keeping you in limbo between life and death. But keeping you in that state was never her intention. Everything that’s interesting happens in life, after all. Death, no matter how much of it Ayana had dealt, ultimately was a huge bore. A grin formed on her lips as she withdrew the pistol from your mouth, cleaning your own saliva off in your shirt.

“That rule does not apply if one is sharing my bed, of course. Then it’s the exact opposite, but that’s the exception. But enough about my empty bed, what I’m more interested in is...how did you manage to get a bounty on your stupid head?”

—-

Oh, yeah. Sci-fi, that genre which never fails me. First things first, sorry so sorry for ‘controlling’ your character, but I assure you that it was only a creative choice to set the scene and the vibe I was going for. To help you get immersed in the plot. In a normal RP environment, I would not be writing for your character at all, just to be clear. Thanks for accepting my apology, you’re an angel.

As for what I’m looking for here, I hope it was clear from the plot. A character of your own making. Someone who has had a bounty put on their head. For what reason? That is for you to decide. Does your character know? Or do they not know? Totally up to you. It wouldn’t be very fun if I had all the answers now, would it? The same goes for your character’s...well...characteristics. Are they strong/weak? Badass/Nerdy? Crushing hard on Ayana or despising her? Make your character and make them your own. Something you would truly enjoy putting out there. As long as they’re...well...human (human supremacy forever, baby).

When it comes to the plot and how it could look moving forward, that’s also up for discussion, but what I was picturing was a good old enemies-to-lovers type of pairing, or something similar to it, since the characters aren’t exactly enemies, are they <3. I adore everything about moral and interpersonal dilemmas, as well as internal conflicts. Growing fond of someone you shouldn’t. Learning more about each other and realizing that under different circumstances, they could have been the best of *lovers*. But the beauty of it is...they still could be. The path ahead is not set in stone. Will the hot bounty hunter go through with her delivery? Will the equally hot prisoner try to escape every chance she gets? Simple questions, but oh so fun to play out and find out the answers to.

Since all of you here are degenerates (me too UwU), one has to discuss kinks, too, eh? Well, I find kinklists a bit overused. They give me little insight into you as a player. I’d rather only hear about a few of your absolute favourites, the ones that define you and make you who you are. I myself might be quite fucking kinky with an infinite amount of kinks, but if I started naming all the positions/places to lick/ways to do it - we’d be here all day, and you’d not get any wiser from it, trust me. Suffice it to say, sex is fluid and quite easy to do. It’s your ideas, vibe, and nerdiness on the subject that attracts me the most - not the amount of holes you can speedrun through. I hope I’ve been clear, hehe.

And then we come to the last part, the mandatory horny question of the day, so I know that you know that I know what you have to know, y’know? So the question: What cute nickname would you want Ayana to have for you that would make you weak in the knees? And bonus question: What cute/horny nickname would you wanna call Ayana? Ok, that’s it. I’m shutting this party down. Do send a message, *bitch*.

It had been such a peaceful morning. The air was reeking of manure, some of the other inmates were crying about something, and the mice were having the best time of their lives chewing on whatever they could find. This tranquility was shattered when the stone walls of the prison you had been thrown in were...blown apart, stone and brick flying in every direction and almost taking your head off. Thankfully, the steel bars saved your life, and it was probably the only time you were thankful to have them there, caging you in.

Confusion was ripe in the air. Even guards in the prison dungeon did not understand what was happening until a messenger came and shouted:

“We’re under attack! Commander orders all men to the walls! Come on!”

Well, that cleared things up. Not that it helped you much. Even when all the guards rushed off, leaving the prisoners unwatched and alone, you had no way of using the situation to your advantage. The blacksmiths who had forged the bars had done their job too well. Your meager flesh and bones were not good enough this time. Your lamentation, however, was interrupted by slow footsteps descending down the prison dungeon stairs. The figure that emerged was not one you had ever seen or even imagined ever seeing.

A female, by the looks of it. Average height, cloaked in a dark cloak and hood. The only feature of hers that stood out was her facemask and royal purple hair that flowed down the sides of her head. Now that she had descended, her footsteps were as silent as a feline’s and twice as agile. She stopped right in the middle of the dungeon floor, looking around at all the prisoners with a disinterested look.

“Is there anyone here who was arrested in Hollowbark?”

Your heart probably skipped a beat when you realized she was talking about you. With all that was happening, it probably wasn’t the wisest move to raise your hand, or being blown apart would most likely follow. Fortunately for you, another man in another cell got up and approached the bars of his cell, a crazed look in his eyes.

“Why don’t you take off that cloak and sit on my lap? Then I’ll maybe tell you where I’m from, you little sl-”

The poor fool didn’t get to finish his sentence before the mysterious woman reached for something in her cloak, pulled it out, and blasted the man’s head off with a flintlock pistol shot. Flesh, blood, and whatever little brain cells the man had were splattered all across the nearby wall, a warning to those who continued to play games and no answer her.

“I’ll ask again. Is there anyone here from Hollowbark?”

Perhaps it was your look, or the drop of sweat on your brow, but the strange woman’s head turned towards you, and she proceeded to approach your cell, leaning close to the bars to have a look at you, her exotic purple eyes looking you up and down.

“You. It’s you, isn’t it?”

Before you could answer, she had already holstered her pistol and produced a set of keys, and just like that, in the blink of an eye, the doors to your cell opened up. Like a flash, the woman was in front of you, her hand slamming onto your face, cupping your jaw, turning your head from one side, then to the other, then up, then down as she took a long, good look at you up close.

“You’re certainly the one.” After confirming that, the woman let go of your face and relaxed a bit, exhaling. “We’re getting out of here. You will follow me, understood? Keep close and don’t wander off. Up the stairs, there’s a corpse. Make sure to grab his sword.”

Stepping away from you, the woman turned like a hurricane, her cloak fluttering and the scent of lavender being left in her wake. Not wasting any time, she made her way towards the stairs leading to freedom, but stopped for a moment to look back.

“I am called Akari, and I have sworn to get you out of here alive. Don’t make me fail in my vow.”

—-

How you proceed and what kind of character you make is entirely up to you. Someone strong, or someone weak. Someone determined, or a total waste of life. Everyone has their purpose in this story. Beautiful and ugly alike, for it’s the journey that matters, not how you start it. A trek through the unknown lands, full of danger. A stay in magnificent towns, full of intrigue and the company of characters, both cute and awful.

I do intend to be a sort of a GM for this story, since I have ideas for many, many characters you would interact with, romancable and not. At the end of the day, your character would be the main one, the story centering around them and their journey of self discovery, fate, and destiny. And if you happen to have a butt load of fun along the way - why not? There is never any rush with me. Destiny can wait if you want to have a steamy sauna scene. Your path is your own to determine.

The same goes for sexuality, kinks, and to some extent race. For this plot, I expect from you a human character. I know, I know...boring, duh, but if I can have one thing in this RP, it’s a love for humans. Your character could be straight, bi, or gay. They can have one romantic interest, many, or none at all. Nothing in this world is black and white; the same goes for the character’s feelings. As for the kinks, I’ve ascended beyond a need for lists, since I consider myself without limits. I’ll do pretty much any kink as long as it makes sense for the plot. As to say...I won’t do anything too unrealistic that would shatter my sense of reality. Nothing that defied the laws of common sense and gravity (looking at you hyper people). I do like it when people come to me with their favorite kinks, and not their entire kink lists. That can come later, but what I’m more interested in is...something that sets them apart, something that says more about your personality as a writer, or your character. The kinks should reflect your character. So do mention your top 3, or something close to that, but before writing them down, do think: do they make sense for your character? If yes, I’ll most probably do them <3.

I, of course, also prefer people who are literate, like to write, and express themselves. People who like not only words, but visual/sound cues (I’ll bombard you with my characters’ favorite weapons/sunday clothes/armors). I am not one to jump into a story without plotting, and rushing me is never a good idea. Once we’re both happy with what we’ve discussed, then yes, let’s start, not before. Banter is half the fun in finding an RP partner.

With my preferences, interests, and biography, I could go on and on for hours on end, but I believe I’ve said enough to grab your attention, reader. If you like what I’ve proposed, message me promptly, and let’s talk. If not, that’s alright, honey. I’ll have more plots to come about different topics and in different settings, as soon as the inspiration hits me. Oooh, and that reminds me: if you have a better idea or proposal for any kind of changes for this story, I’m all ears. RP is, of course, a cooperative work, so I do want all your ideas and proposed changes so we can make the story as good as it can possibly be.

With that said,

I have spoken.

It had been such a peaceful morning. The air was reeking of manure, some of the other inmates were crying about something, and the mice were having the best time of their lives chewing on whatever they could find. This tranquility was shattered when the stone walls of the prison you had been thrown in were...blown apart, stone and brick flying in every direction and almost taking your head off. Thankfully, the steel bars saved your life, and it was probably the only time you were thankful to have them there, caging you in.

Confusion was ripe in the air. Even guards in the prison dungeon did not understand what was happening until a messenger came and shouted:

“We’re under attack! Commander orders all men to the walls! Come on!”

Well, that cleared things up. Not that it helped you much. Even when all the guards rushed off, leaving the prisoners unwatched and alone, you had no way of using the situation to your advantage. The blacksmiths who had forged the bars had done their job too well. Your meager flesh and bones were not good enough this time. Your lamentation, however, was interrupted by slow footsteps descending down the prison dungeon stairs. The figure that emerged was not one you had ever seen or even imagined ever seeing.

A female, by the looks of it. Average height, cloaked in a dark cloak and hood. The only feature of hers that stood out was her facemask and royal purple hair that flowed down the sides of her head. Now that she had descended, her footsteps were as silent as a feline’s and twice as agile. She stopped right in the middle of the dungeon floor, looking around at all the prisoners with a disinterested look.

“Is there anyone here who was arrested in Hollowbark?”

Your heart probably skipped a beat when you realized she was talking about you. With all that was happening, it probably wasn’t the wisest move to raise your hand, or being blown apart would most likely follow. Fortunately for you, another man in another cell got up and approached the bars of his cell, a crazed look in his eyes.

“Why don’t you take off that cloak and sit on my lap? Then I’ll maybe tell you where I’m from, you little sl-”

The poor fool didn’t get to finish his sentence before the mysterious woman reached for something in her cloak, pulled it out, and blasted the man’s head off with a flintlock pistol shot. Flesh, blood, and whatever little brain cells the man had were splattered all across the nearby wall, a warning to those who continued to play games and no answer her.

“I’ll ask again. Is there anyone here from Hollowbark?”

Perhaps it was your look, or the drop of sweat on your brow, but the strange woman’s head turned towards you, and she proceeded to approach your cell, leaning close to the bars to have a look at you, her exotic purple eyes looking you up and down.

“You. It’s you, isn’t it?”

Before you could answer, she had already holstered her pistol and produced a set of keys, and just like that, in the blink of an eye, the doors to your cell opened up. Like a flash, the woman was in front of you, her hand slamming onto your face, cupping your jaw, turning your head from one side, then to the other, then up, then down as she took a long, good look at you up close.

“You’re certainly the one.” After confirming that, the woman let go of your face and relaxed a bit, exhaling. “We’re getting out of here. You will follow me, understood? Keep close and don’t wander off. Up the stairs, there’s a corpse. Make sure to grab his sword.”

Stepping away from you, the woman turned like a hurricane, her cloak fluttering and the scent of lavender being left in her wake. Not wasting any time, she made her way towards the stairs leading to freedom, but stopped for a moment to look back.

“I am called Akari, and I have sworn to get you out of here alive. Don’t make me fail in my vow.”

—-

How you proceed and what kind of character you make is entirely up to you. Someone strong, or someone weak. Someone determined, or a total waste of life. Everyone has their purpose in this story. Beautiful and ugly alike, for it’s the journey that matters, not how you start it. A trek through the unknown lands, full of danger. A stay in magnificent towns, full of intrigue and the company of characters, both cute and awful.

I do intend to be a sort of a GM for this story, since I have ideas for many, many characters you would interact with, romancable and not. At the end of the day, your character would be the main one, the story centering around them and their journey of self discovery, fate, and destiny. And if you happen to have a butt load of fun along the way - why not? There is never any rush with me. Destiny can wait if you want to have a steamy sauna scene. Your path is your own to determine.

The same goes for sexuality, kinks, and to some extent race. For this plot, I expect from you a human character. I know, I know...boring, duh, but if I can have one thing in this RP, it’s a love for humans. Your character could be straight, bi, or gay. They can have one romantic interest, many, or none at all. Nothing in this world is black and white; the same goes for the character’s feelings. As for the kinks, I’ve ascended beyond a need for lists, since I consider myself without limits. I’ll do pretty much any kink as long as it makes sense for the plot. As to say...I won’t do anything too unrealistic that would shatter my sense of reality. Nothing that defied the laws of common sense and gravity (looking at you hyper people). I do like it when people come to me with their favorite kinks, and not their entire kink lists. That can come later, but what I’m more interested in is...something that sets them apart, something that says more about your personality as a writer, or your character. The kinks should reflect your character. So do mention your top 3, or something close to that, but before writing them down, do think: do they make sense for your character? If yes, I’ll most probably do them <3.

I, of course, also prefer people who are literate, like to write, and express themselves. People who like not only words, but visual/sound cues (I’ll bombard you with my characters’ favorite weapons/sunday clothes/armors). I am not one to jump into a story without plotting, and rushing me is never a good idea. Once we’re both happy with what we’ve discussed, then yes, let’s start, not before. Banter is half the fun in finding an RP partner.

With my preferences, interests, and biography, I could go on and on for hours on end, but I believe I’ve said enough to grab your attention, reader. If you like what I’ve proposed, message me promptly, and let’s talk. If not, that’s alright, honey. I’ll have more plots to come about different topics and in different settings, as soon as the inspiration hits me. Oooh, and that reminds me: if you have a better idea or proposal for any kind of changes for this story, I’m all ears. RP is, of course, a cooperative work, so I do want all your ideas and proposed changes so we can make the story as good as it can possibly be.

With that said,

I have spoken.

It had been such a peaceful morning. The air was reeking of manure, some of the other inmates were crying about something, and the mice were having the best time of their lives chewing on whatever they could find. This tranquility was shattered when the stone walls of the prison you had been thrown in were...blown apart, stone and brick flying in every direction and almost taking your head off. Thankfully, the steel bars saved your life, and it was probably the only time you were thankful to have them there, caging you in.

Confusion was ripe in the air. Even guards in the prison dungeon did not understand what was happening until a messenger came and shouted:

“We’re under attack! Commander orders all men to the walls! Come on!”

Well, that cleared things up. Not that it helped you much. Even when all the guards rushed off, leaving the prisoners unwatched and alone, you had no way of using the situation to your advantage. The blacksmiths who had forged the bars had done their job too well. Your meager flesh and bones were not good enough this time. Your lamentation, however, was interrupted by slow footsteps descending down the prison dungeon stairs. The figure that emerged was not one you had ever seen or even imagined ever seeing.

A female, by the looks of it. Average height, cloaked in a dark cloak and hood. The only feature of hers that stood out was her facemask and royal purple hair that flowed down the sides of her head. Now that she had descended, her footsteps were as silent as a feline’s and twice as agile. She stopped right in the middle of the dungeon floor, looking around at all the prisoners with a disinterested look.

“Is there anyone here who was arrested in Hollowbark?”

Your heart probably skipped a beat when you realized she was talking about you. With all that was happening, it probably wasn’t the wisest move to raise your hand, or being blown apart would most likely follow. Fortunately for you, another man in another cell got up and approached the bars of his cell, a crazed look in his eyes.

“Why don’t you take off that cloak and sit on my lap? Then I’ll maybe tell you where I’m from, you little sl-”

The poor fool didn’t get to finish his sentence before the mysterious woman reached for something in her cloak, pulled it out, and blasted the man’s head off with a flintlock pistol shot. Flesh, blood, and whatever little brain cells the man had were splattered all across the nearby wall, a warning to those who continued to play games and no answer her.

“I’ll ask again. Is there anyone here from Hollowbark?”

Perhaps it was your look, or the drop of sweat on your brow, but the strange woman’s head turned towards you, and she proceeded to approach your cell, leaning close to the bars to have a look at you, her exotic purple eyes looking you up and down.

“You. It’s you, isn’t it?”

Before you could answer, she had already holstered her pistol and produced a set of keys, and just like that, in the blink of an eye, the doors to your cell opened up. Like a flash, the woman was in front of you, her hand slamming onto your face, cupping your jaw, turning your head from one side, then to the other, then up, then down as she took a long, good look at you up close.

“You’re certainly the one.” After confirming that, the woman let go of your face and relaxed a bit, exhaling. “We’re getting out of here. You will follow me, understood? Keep close and don’t wander off. Up the stairs, there’s a corpse. Make sure to grab his sword.”

Stepping away from you, the woman turned like a hurricane, her cloak fluttering and the scent of lavender being left in her wake. Not wasting any time, she made her way towards the stairs leading to freedom, but stopped for a moment to look back.

“I am called Akari, and I have sworn to get you out of here alive. Don’t make me fail in my vow.”

—-

How you proceed and what kind of character you make is entirely up to you. Someone strong, or someone weak. Someone determined, or a total waste of life. Everyone has their purpose in this story. Beautiful and ugly alike, for it’s the journey that matters, not how you start it. A trek through the unknown lands, full of danger. A stay in magnificent towns, full of intrigue and the company of characters, both cute and awful.

I do intend to be a sort of a GM for this story, since I have ideas for many, many characters you would interact with, romancable and not. At the end of the day, your character would be the main one, the story centering around them and their journey of self discovery, fate, and destiny. And if you happen to have a butt load of fun along the way - why not? There is never any rush with me. Destiny can wait if you want to have a steamy sauna scene. Your path is your own to determine.

The same goes for sexuality, kinks, and to some extent race. For this plot, I expect from you a human character. I know, I know...boring, duh, but if I can have one thing in this RP, it’s a love for humans. Your character could be straight, bi, or gay. They can have one romantic interest, many, or none at all. Nothing in this world is black and white; the same goes for the character’s feelings. As for the kinks, I’ve ascended beyond a need for lists, since I consider myself without limits. I’ll do pretty much any kink as long as it makes sense for the plot. As to say...I won’t do anything too unrealistic that would shatter my sense of reality. Nothing that defied the laws of common sense and gravity (looking at you hyper people). I do like it when people come to me with their favorite kinks, and not their entire kink lists. That can come later, but what I’m more interested in is...something that sets them apart, something that says more about your personality as a writer, or your character. The kinks should reflect your character. So do mention your top 3, or something close to that, but before writing them down, do think: do they make sense for your character? If yes, I’ll most probably do them <3.

I, of course, also prefer people who are literate, like to write, and express themselves. People who like not only words, but visual/sound cues (I’ll bombard you with my characters’ favorite weapons/sunday clothes/armors). I am not one to jump into a story without plotting, and rushing me is never a good idea. Once we’re both happy with what we’ve discussed, then yes, let’s start, not before. Banter is half the fun in finding an RP partner.

With my preferences, interests, and biography, I could go on and on for hours on end, but I believe I’ve said enough to grab your attention, reader. If you like what I’ve proposed, message me promptly, and let’s talk. If not, that’s alright, honey. I’ll have more plots to come about different topics and in different settings, as soon as the inspiration hits me. Oooh, and that reminds me: if you have a better idea or proposal for any kind of changes for this story, I’m all ears. RP is, of course, a cooperative work, so I do want all your ideas and proposed changes so we can make the story as good as it can possibly be.

With that said,

I have spoken.

“Ah, hello-hello! You’re here about the room, aren’t ya’? Well, come on in and take your shoes off, the floor is quite warm and clean, that’s how we keep it.”

The old granny, half your size, wasn’t exactly what you had expected when you had called in search of a room to rent. Seriously, in today's economy, it was hard to find a place within your budget that would leave you room to pay for other stuff that mattered to you, be it studies, entertainment, or a side business. Renting a room in Dolphin City was the cheapest option by far, since a lot of the old folk had space aplenty.

“Ever since my old man passed, we ain’t had a man around here. Would be good to have one, especially when the trash can is full…and goodness does it get heavy for my back.”

Speaking as she walked, the old woman led you deeper into the house, past some stairs, and into the kitchen area. It was tidier and cleaner than you had expected. At her age, the old woman probably had nothing better to do than to keep things as neat as possible. What was curious was that there were two fridges next to each other, one larger than the other.

“That small one is for you. Keep whatever you wish in there. Oh, darling, would you like some tea and crackers, I…”

Before she could offer to feed you as you’ve never been fed before, her phone rang in a volume you had scarcely heard before, and it was almost painful to your ears, yet she didn’t seem to be bothered at all. Comes with being half-deaf. The old woman grabbed her phone to have a look at it and sighed.

“Oh, goodness me. I had completely forgotten. I’m so sorry, I must rush away, umm… Shirley!”

Apologizing to you profusely and seemingly having forgotten about an appointment, granny yelled out and looked at the ceiling above before grabbing a broomstick and tapping on the wooden boards above forcefully to notify an equally deaf girl living there. A moment later, the sound of a door being opened could be heard on the floor upstairs, along with loud heavy metal music gradually being turned down.

“Whaaat!?” called out a voice from above the stairs, clearly a younger one.

“Shirley, come down here. Gran-Gran has to rush to the yoga class!”

Lazy footsteps would follow as Shirley made her way down the stairs, a little peeved at having her private time be interrupted for something likely menial. Making it to the bottom of the stairs and turning the corner, you would finally see the troublemaker in all her glory. She likely wasn’t expecting visitors and hadn’t been told by her granny that someone was in the house or she likely wouldn’t have arrived with her hair in a messy bun with some wild strands sticking to her sweaty forehead. She was wearing a crop-top sweater and a pair of black thigh-highs, accompanied by a pair of equally dark booty shorts - something one would wear at home and NOT when expecting unknown visitors. As soon as Shirley saw you standing there, she froze.

“Uhh…hi…?”

It was clear she was stunned and that her heart had either stopped or was beating double the usual pace. Her granny might be half blind, half deaf with a barely functioning nose, but to anyone who had all their faculties, it was clear that Shirley had been interrupted in the middle of something. The smell of sex around her, the sweat on her brow and thighs, as well as the sunken eyes…yeah, there was no doubt about it. The beet-red blush on her cheeks didn’t help with the situation one bit.

“Great! Young man, this is Shirley, my granddaughter. She’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping. Don’t worry, she might be a shy girl, but she’ll keep your room clean, always has. Alrighty, I catch you kids later…!”

With that done, Granny made her way towards the exit, grabbed her cane, and in a flash - she was gone, leaving Shirley standing there like a complete fool with a total stranger. A male stranger. The shy virgin in Shirley was unable to even produce complete sentences as she stammered out something while vigorously trying to correct her hair and make herself not appear like a total girlfailure.

“Umm…yeah-yeah the room umm…it’s right over this way…yeah…there upstairs…up the stairs, I mean.”

Before you could get a chance to answer, she had already turned around and jogged up the stairs like a rabbit, her thighs looking ever so magnificently in their bare, pale form. As you would follow, the truth would reveal itself. Shirley hadn’t done her job as of yet and hadn’t made your bed. Granny had told her to do so, but she had been…distracted for a while with whatever she was doing what girls do when left alone for extended periods of time.

“Umm…I’ll just be a minute, please don’t tell Gran-Gran…Also…I’m Shirley, but…damn it, you already knew that, umm…I…I’ll finish your bed.”

Rushing off to get some fresh sheets, you couldn’t help but feel that you hit a jackpot. But what your future relationship would be with Shirley…that’s for you to decide.

\---

How you proceed and what kind of character you make is entirely up to you, the same with your desired relationship with Shirley. I am well aware that the plot is very barebones and quite open-ended, and that was how it was intended to be. I’m not looking for someone who will rush me into starting. I love taking my time discussing what we both like in these kinds of stories, writing down our desires, quirks, and dream scenarios so we can create the best plot imaginable. This plot is quite slice-of-life-ish, but if you have different ideas, inspirations, or anything else, I’m always all ears and welcome any idea, however zany it might be <3.

The same goes for your kinks and things you like, sexually or not. Nothing in this world is black and white; the same goes for the character’s feelings. They can be instantly smitten by Shirley, seeing her as a dream girl, or perhaps it takes time for you to overcome how much of an awkward loser she is (great body tho *insert catcall*). As for the kinks, I’ve ascended beyond a need for lists, since I consider myself without limits. I’ll do pretty much any kink as long as it makes sense for the plot. As to say...I won’t do anything unrealistic in a plot that’s set in a modern, real world. Nothing that defied the laws of nature (looking at you hyper people). I do like it when people come to me with their favorite kinks, and not their entire kink lists. That can come later, but what I’m more interested in is...something that sets you apart, something that says more about your personality as a writer, or your character. The kinks should reflect your character. So do mention your top 3, or something close to that but before writing them down, do think: do they make sense in the plot? If yes, I’ll most probably do them <3. And if you mention something as basic as ‘kissing’ I will kick you in the groin. Don’t test me. If you need to add something so mundane in your top 3, then at least add an interesting body part you’d like to do it to.

I, of course, also prefer people who are literate, like to write, and express themselves. People who like not only words, but visual/sound cues (i’ll bombard you with Shirley’s favorite thursday tops/ fav songs/porn she likes). I am not one to jump into a story without plotting, and rushing me is never a good idea. Once we’re both happy with what we’ve discussed, then yes, let’s start, not before. Banter is half the fun in finding an RP partner.

With my preferences, interests, and biography, I could go on and on for hours on end, but I believe I’ve said enough to grab your attention, reader. If you like what I’ve proposed, message me promptly, and let’s talk. If not, that’s alright, honey. I’ll have more plots to come about different topics and in different settings, as soon as the inspiration hits me. Oooh, and that reminds me: if you have a better idea or proposal for any kind of changes for this story, I’m all ears. RP is, of course, a cooperative work, so I do want all your ideas and proposed changes so we can make the story as good as it can possibly be. Secret password: do tell, in your nerdiness, what video game are you playing with her?

With that said,

I have spoken.

“Ah, hello-hello! You’re here about the room, aren’t ya’? Well, come on in and take your shoes off, the floor is quite warm and clean, that’s how we keep it.”

The old granny, half your size, wasn’t exactly what you had expected when you had called in search of a room to rent. Seriously, in today's economy, it was hard to find a place within your budget that would leave you room to pay for other stuff that mattered to you, be it studies, entertainment, or a side business. Renting a room in Dolphin City was the cheapest option by far, since a lot of the old folk had space aplenty.

“Ever since my old man passed, we ain’t had a man around here. Would be good to have one, especially when the trash can is full…and goodness does it get heavy for my back.”

Speaking as she walked, the old woman led you deeper into the house, past some stairs, and into the kitchen area. It was tidier and cleaner than you had expected. At her age, the old woman probably had nothing better to do than to keep things as neat as possible. What was curious was that there were two fridges next to each other, one larger than the other.

“That small one is for you. Keep whatever you wish in there. Oh, darling, would you like some tea and crackers, I…”

Before she could offer to feed you as you’ve never been fed before, her phone rang in a volume you had scarcely heard before, and it was almost painful to your ears, yet she didn’t seem to be bothered at all. Comes with being half-deaf. The old woman grabbed her phone to have a look at it and sighed.

“Oh, goodness me. I had completely forgotten. I’m so sorry, I must rush away, umm… Shirley!”

Apologizing to you profusely and seemingly having forgotten about an appointment, granny yelled out and looked at the ceiling above before grabbing a broomstick and tapping on the wooden boards above forcefully to notify an equally deaf girl living there. A moment later, the sound of a door being opened could be heard on the floor upstairs, along with loud heavy metal music gradually being turned down.

“Whaaat!?” called out a voice from above the stairs, clearly a younger one.

“Shirley, come down here. Gran-Gran has to rush to the yoga class!”

Lazy footsteps would follow as Shirley made her way down the stairs, a little peeved at having her private time be interrupted for something likely menial. Making it to the bottom of the stairs and turning the corner, you would finally see the troublemaker in all her glory. She likely wasn’t expecting visitors and hadn’t been told by her granny that someone was in the house or she likely wouldn’t have arrived with her hair in a messy bun with some wild strands sticking to her sweaty forehead. She was wearing a crop-top sweater and a pair of black thigh-highs, accompanied by a pair of equally dark booty shorts - something one would wear at home and NOT when expecting unknown visitors. As soon as Shirley saw you standing there, she froze.

“Uhh…hi…?”

It was clear she was stunned and that her heart had either stopped or was beating double the usual pace. Her granny might be half blind, half deaf with a barely functioning nose, but to anyone who had all their faculties, it was clear that Shirley had been interrupted in the middle of something. The smell of sex around her, the sweat on her brow and thighs, as well as the sunken eyes…yeah, there was no doubt about it. The beet-red blush on her cheeks didn’t help with the situation one bit.

“Great! Young man, this is Shirley, my granddaughter. She’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping. Don’t worry, she might be a shy girl, but she’ll keep your room clean, always has. Alrighty, I catch you kids later…!”

With that done, Granny made her way towards the exit, grabbed her cane, and in a flash - she was gone, leaving Shirley standing there like a complete fool with a total stranger. A male stranger. The shy virgin in Shirley was unable to even produce complete sentences as she stammered out something while vigorously trying to correct her hair and make herself not appear like a total girlfailure.

“Umm…yeah-yeah the room umm…it’s right over this way…yeah…there upstairs…up the stairs, I mean.”

Before you could get a chance to answer, she had already turned around and jogged up the stairs like a rabbit, her thighs looking ever so magnificently in their bare, pale form. As you would follow, the truth would reveal itself. Shirley hadn’t done her job as of yet and hadn’t made your bed. Granny had told her to do so, but she had been…distracted for a while with whatever she was doing what girls do when left alone for extended periods of time.

“Umm…I’ll just be a minute, please don’t tell Gran-Gran…Also…I’m Shirley, but…damn it, you already knew that, umm…I…I’ll finish your bed.”

Rushing off to get some fresh sheets, you couldn’t help but feel that you hit a jackpot. But what your future relationship would be with Shirley…that’s for you to decide.

---

How you proceed and what kind of character you make is entirely up to you, the same with your desired relationship with Shirley. I am well aware that the plot is very barebones and quite open-ended, and that was how it was intended to be. I’m not looking for someone who will rush me into starting. I love taking my time discussing what we both like in these kinds of stories, writing down our desires, quirks, and dream scenarios so we can create the best plot imaginable. This plot is quite slice-of-life-ish, but if you have different ideas, inspirations, or anything else, I’m always all ears and welcome any idea, however zany it might be <3.

The same goes for your kinks and things you like, sexually or not. Nothing in this world is black and white; the same goes for the character’s feelings. They can be instantly smitten by Shirley, seeing her as a dream girl, or perhaps it takes time for you to overcome how much of an awkward loser she is (great body tho insert catcall). As for the kinks, I’ve ascended beyond a need for lists, since I consider myself without limits. I’ll do pretty much any kink as long as it makes sense for the plot. As to say...I won’t do anything unrealistic in a plot that’s set in a modern, real world. Nothing that defied the laws of nature (looking at you hyper people). I do like it when people come to me with their favorite kinks, and not their entire kink lists. That can come later, but what I’m more interested in is...something that sets you apart, something that says more about your personality as a writer, or your character. The kinks should reflect your character. So do mention your top 3, or something close to that but before writing them down, do think: do they make sense in the plot? If yes, I’ll most probably do them <3. And if you mention something as basic as ‘kissing’ I will kick you in the groin. Don’t test me. If you need to add something so mundane in your top 3, then at least add an interesting body part you’d like to do it to.

I, of course, also prefer people who are literate, like to write, and express themselves. People who like not only words, but visual/sound cues (i’ll bombard you with Shirley’s favorite thursday tops/ fav songs/porn she likes). I am not one to jump into a story without plotting, and rushing me is never a good idea. Once we’re both happy with what we’ve discussed, then yes, let’s start, not before. Banter is half the fun in finding an RP partner.

With my preferences, interests, and biography, I could go on and on for hours on end, but I believe I’ve said enough to grab your attention, reader. If you like what I’ve proposed, message me promptly, and let’s talk. If not, that’s alright, honey. I’ll have more plots to come about different topics and in different settings, as soon as the inspiration hits me. Oooh, and that reminds me: if you have a better idea or proposal for any kind of changes for this story, I’m all ears. RP is, of course, a cooperative work, so I do want all your ideas and proposed changes so we can make the story as good as it can possibly be. Secret password: do tell, in your perverted guesstimation, how quickly do you think you’ll have Shirley jumping up and down on you?

With that said,
I have spoken.