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Alright I know my last plot thread was kind of a shitshow given my lack of detail or effort put into the plots I posted. SO! Ive recently come up with some new ones that have been an itch I've needed to scratch for the longest time.
A little copy and paste about my rules I write detailed posts, consisting of multiple paragraphs more often than not. While I won't demand the same extent from you, I will say it'd be nice if you offered enough to keep the plot rolling on your end as well. Offer up ideas and shake up the plot! I love to see the story built upon!
I'm pretty much unfiltered in terms of language and content of stories, but if you have preferences please do let me know. I want to refrain from making anyone uncomfortable.
Another thing, I do like to discuss the finer details of a plot, as well as go over characters just so we're both on the same page!
In terms of smut I'm open to having it but it needs to make sense and fit with the pacing of the story. Once we reach that point, we can have at it to our hearts content, barring we're still keeping the story moving forward.
Anyways, if you bothered to read this, mention your favorite genre of music in your first message to me! Without further ado, on to the plots!
Only a couple plots for right now because I'm not looking for a too many new RP's! Like one of them? Message me! Like none of them? Still shoot me a message with an idea of your own! I'm always up for something new!
A little copy and paste about my rules I write detailed posts, consisting of multiple paragraphs more often than not. While I won't demand the same extent from you, I will say it'd be nice if you offered enough to keep the plot rolling on your end as well. Offer up ideas and shake up the plot! I love to see the story built upon!
I'm pretty much unfiltered in terms of language and content of stories, but if you have preferences please do let me know. I want to refrain from making anyone uncomfortable.
Another thing, I do like to discuss the finer details of a plot, as well as go over characters just so we're both on the same page!
In terms of smut I'm open to having it but it needs to make sense and fit with the pacing of the story. Once we reach that point, we can have at it to our hearts content, barring we're still keeping the story moving forward.
Anyways, if you bothered to read this, mention your favorite genre of music in your first message to me! Without further ado, on to the plots!
"Please, I can't lose him but I don't know what I can do to save our marriage anymore."
A woman was knelt down in pure humility, before a dark presence that stood before her. They took the appearance of a young man, with Crimson red eyes piercing through the darkness, with all else hidden in the darkness of the woman's home. His eyes were most unkind, and it was obvious he was sneering before her as she sniveled and whined to him.
As she continued to weep, the Demon let off an irritated sigh as he rubbed the crease of his nose.
"This is a difficult thing you are daring to ask of me mortal. Human emotions are a fickle thing that even I have limitations against. As much as I'd love to fix your husbands heart, take your Soul, and be on my merry way. I can't even guarantee that this is possible, even for me."
She looked up with more and more tears brimming in her eyes as a look of pure desperation came upon her face.
"But, the legends! They tell of people falling in Love all the time due to a sacrifice of the Soul!"
The man growled, "Let me ask you one question. What's the main reason most "Good Christian" men like your husband get married?"
The woman was stunned, so the demon moved on.
"Because they want to finally get down and dirty, due to your faith preaching against sex before marriage. More often than not, proposals and marriages are often backed behind LUST. Not love. And lust falls into our category of expertise. We can make love be just as real and temporary as any average marriage. But having your husband truly love you again, that takes something that no mere magic can work."
"Please..."
The Demon turned away, but took a peek back once last time, a single crimson eye gazing into the woman's soul.
"I will return later. I need to think about this before I make any attempts. Should I find a way, our deal will be set. But if not, I strongly consider letting go before you get yourself her more than you already are."
In a flash of flames and embers, the Demon disappeared, leaving the woman to sob and wail as Hope began to slip from her fingers.——————
Siren Jaeger appeared once more in his humble abode, a secluded cabin housed deep within the confines of the Yellowstone forests. It had aged quite well, considering how long ago he'd built it. Not that it mattered.
It was a small one room establishment, competed with a table, a few chairs, a recliner, and even a brick fireplace. And of course his own personal bed tucked away in one of the corners.
Grumbling to himself, the Demon walked over to the recliner before slumping in its comfortable seat, resting his head in the palm of his right hand.
It didn't matter how he looked at it, there was no power in all the levels of hell that could manipulate mankind's emotions in such a way. Not without himself paying a price on the process, and one soul was not worth that much to him.
But.... perhaps he might be able to look outside hells confines. Maybe, just maybe, there'd be someone who could help him.
The Angels? Fuck no, they'd sooner take his head and destroy him for all time.
The spirit realm? Nah. They weren't exactly lively even in their own emotions.
What of.... a God?
Yes, surely one of the ascended beings of this world could help him if they so wished to. After all, within the ancient records of history there was just as many if not more Gods making deals with desperate and foolish mortals as there were Demons. He'd just need to find the right one, one that could be summoned as well as bartered with.
It'd be a simple three way trade. He'd simply see what they would want in exchange for this favor, which then helped the mortal, in turn helping him. It was a win win for him, barring he could meet whatever they demanded. If not, he'd simply refuse and carry on with his life. It didn't really effect him all that much of the woman suffered. All to gain and nothing to lose.
Sitting up straight, Siren snapped his fingers and conjured a book from within a brief but bright red flame.
He wasn't well versed on the Gods, given they had no jurisdiction over him. But for once he was willing to learn. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long, after all, there had to be one who could meet his needs...
//Alright so this one is pretty obvious in terms of what can open. With my character mingling with a Goddess of love, they'll make a deal under the condition of himself becoming a pet of sorts for them. Leaving his life behind for whatever period of time they desire as a means of keeping them 'company'. Take that how you will. Thinking nothing of it, Siren will take the deal. From that point moving forward, there can be an ample amount of conflict and tension to be had given the crime of passion the two would undergo in engaging in this sort of deal. I'd prefer to keep it open as a means of crafting a story we'd both enjoy, given I've already taken liberties with the roles so by all means let's have a good discussion about this one!
A woman was knelt down in pure humility, before a dark presence that stood before her. They took the appearance of a young man, with Crimson red eyes piercing through the darkness, with all else hidden in the darkness of the woman's home. His eyes were most unkind, and it was obvious he was sneering before her as she sniveled and whined to him.
As she continued to weep, the Demon let off an irritated sigh as he rubbed the crease of his nose.
"This is a difficult thing you are daring to ask of me mortal. Human emotions are a fickle thing that even I have limitations against. As much as I'd love to fix your husbands heart, take your Soul, and be on my merry way. I can't even guarantee that this is possible, even for me."
She looked up with more and more tears brimming in her eyes as a look of pure desperation came upon her face.
"But, the legends! They tell of people falling in Love all the time due to a sacrifice of the Soul!"
The man growled, "Let me ask you one question. What's the main reason most "Good Christian" men like your husband get married?"
The woman was stunned, so the demon moved on.
"Because they want to finally get down and dirty, due to your faith preaching against sex before marriage. More often than not, proposals and marriages are often backed behind LUST. Not love. And lust falls into our category of expertise. We can make love be just as real and temporary as any average marriage. But having your husband truly love you again, that takes something that no mere magic can work."
"Please..."
The Demon turned away, but took a peek back once last time, a single crimson eye gazing into the woman's soul.
"I will return later. I need to think about this before I make any attempts. Should I find a way, our deal will be set. But if not, I strongly consider letting go before you get yourself her more than you already are."
In a flash of flames and embers, the Demon disappeared, leaving the woman to sob and wail as Hope began to slip from her fingers.——————
Siren Jaeger appeared once more in his humble abode, a secluded cabin housed deep within the confines of the Yellowstone forests. It had aged quite well, considering how long ago he'd built it. Not that it mattered.
It was a small one room establishment, competed with a table, a few chairs, a recliner, and even a brick fireplace. And of course his own personal bed tucked away in one of the corners.
Grumbling to himself, the Demon walked over to the recliner before slumping in its comfortable seat, resting his head in the palm of his right hand.
It didn't matter how he looked at it, there was no power in all the levels of hell that could manipulate mankind's emotions in such a way. Not without himself paying a price on the process, and one soul was not worth that much to him.
But.... perhaps he might be able to look outside hells confines. Maybe, just maybe, there'd be someone who could help him.
The Angels? Fuck no, they'd sooner take his head and destroy him for all time.
The spirit realm? Nah. They weren't exactly lively even in their own emotions.
What of.... a God?
Yes, surely one of the ascended beings of this world could help him if they so wished to. After all, within the ancient records of history there was just as many if not more Gods making deals with desperate and foolish mortals as there were Demons. He'd just need to find the right one, one that could be summoned as well as bartered with.
It'd be a simple three way trade. He'd simply see what they would want in exchange for this favor, which then helped the mortal, in turn helping him. It was a win win for him, barring he could meet whatever they demanded. If not, he'd simply refuse and carry on with his life. It didn't really effect him all that much of the woman suffered. All to gain and nothing to lose.
Sitting up straight, Siren snapped his fingers and conjured a book from within a brief but bright red flame.
He wasn't well versed on the Gods, given they had no jurisdiction over him. But for once he was willing to learn. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long, after all, there had to be one who could meet his needs...
//Alright so this one is pretty obvious in terms of what can open. With my character mingling with a Goddess of love, they'll make a deal under the condition of himself becoming a pet of sorts for them. Leaving his life behind for whatever period of time they desire as a means of keeping them 'company'. Take that how you will. Thinking nothing of it, Siren will take the deal. From that point moving forward, there can be an ample amount of conflict and tension to be had given the crime of passion the two would undergo in engaging in this sort of deal. I'd prefer to keep it open as a means of crafting a story we'd both enjoy, given I've already taken liberties with the roles so by all means let's have a good discussion about this one!
SFC Saavedra was once a proud and prominent soldier within the United States Army. Dedicating his life to combat medicine (68W), he participated in countless engagements with hostile forces overseas during the many military conflicts that were had over the past decade of his service. With the ten years coming and going, and no purpose at home to return to, this life was all he knew and all he thought he wanted to be a part of.
But, as fate would have it, one day he'd bite off more than he could chew with his profession. For one reason or another, Tæven Saavedra would be medically discharged from the service and forced to return him to the civilian lifestyle within the country he'd spent little time in within recent years. With nowhere to go, and no one to return to, he'd retreat into the countryside of the humble state of Iowa to pursue new beginnings for himself.
Taking up the life of a farmer, he'd purchase a manageable plot of land to try and find purpose within the soil. And for the first couple months things seemed to be going well enough. He rarely interacted with anyone in town, and when he did it was only to purchase supplies and whatever groceries he himself could not produce. It was a calm sense of isolation that he found comfort in, with no desire to connect or understand anyone else. Yet there wasn't a profound feeling of joy, or even the slightest inkling of contentment. He just felt numb.
So, when he wasn't working, he'd spend ample time at a smaller pub close to his home. Just as a means of steering clear of the crowds. It was quiet, and he could get some good drinks in without too much talk from the bartender. There'd always be one or two mingling on their own as well, but they tended to leave him alone.
The days moved on, and just blended in with one another. It was quiet, relaxed, and free form which was so vastly different from what he'd gotten used to. No schedules, no hit times, no mandated hours of sleep. It was a freedom he'd wished so long for, and yet now that he had it he didn't know what to do with himself.
Tæven's work continued, but the drinking got a little heavier than it should've. He was spending more time at the bar than he'd initially been comfortable with, which ultimately proved to be his fall from the normal lifestyle he'd tried to adopt. All it took was one plastered scumbag that was there before him to wash it all down the drain. It was obvious they were trying to pick a fight from the start.
Despite trying to keep to himself, the man prodded him with slurred questions and racial remarks that dug into his nerves. With Tæven trying to keep silent, it only got worse, devolving into light shoving and a finger getting pointed in his face. The former soldier spoke up and firmly requested he be left alone, which was only met with a harder shove. Finally, something snapped in Tævens brain. A fried nerve that unbeknownst to him had been on the verge of breaking ever since he'd set foot on US soil.
He didn't even remember all that happened. All he could recollect was his vision seeing red, and coming to his senses at the sight of the same man crumpled and bleeding on the ground. The chair he'd been sitting on was shattered, as was the glass he'd been holding. His knuckles were bruised too, with one of his metacarpals having been fractured as well. It didn't take long to put two and two together.
Tæven didn't try to run, and even encouraged those who witnessed what he'd done to contact emergency services if they hadn't already. It wasn't long before they'd show up and take him away. Given is history and the context of what had happened, Tæven was given a far less severe punishment than he'd anticipated. While the drunkard he'd beaten was in pretty rough shape, it was clear he himself needed some help as well.
It was arranged that he'd be admitted to a psychiatric hospital for a time, so he could be monitored and treated for the Post Traumatic Stress that had plagued and festered his mind.
He just wanted to get this over with, so he could go back to being on his own. Just like he wanted...
But, as fate would have it, one day he'd bite off more than he could chew with his profession. For one reason or another, Tæven Saavedra would be medically discharged from the service and forced to return him to the civilian lifestyle within the country he'd spent little time in within recent years. With nowhere to go, and no one to return to, he'd retreat into the countryside of the humble state of Iowa to pursue new beginnings for himself.
Taking up the life of a farmer, he'd purchase a manageable plot of land to try and find purpose within the soil. And for the first couple months things seemed to be going well enough. He rarely interacted with anyone in town, and when he did it was only to purchase supplies and whatever groceries he himself could not produce. It was a calm sense of isolation that he found comfort in, with no desire to connect or understand anyone else. Yet there wasn't a profound feeling of joy, or even the slightest inkling of contentment. He just felt numb.
So, when he wasn't working, he'd spend ample time at a smaller pub close to his home. Just as a means of steering clear of the crowds. It was quiet, and he could get some good drinks in without too much talk from the bartender. There'd always be one or two mingling on their own as well, but they tended to leave him alone.
The days moved on, and just blended in with one another. It was quiet, relaxed, and free form which was so vastly different from what he'd gotten used to. No schedules, no hit times, no mandated hours of sleep. It was a freedom he'd wished so long for, and yet now that he had it he didn't know what to do with himself.
Tæven's work continued, but the drinking got a little heavier than it should've. He was spending more time at the bar than he'd initially been comfortable with, which ultimately proved to be his fall from the normal lifestyle he'd tried to adopt. All it took was one plastered scumbag that was there before him to wash it all down the drain. It was obvious they were trying to pick a fight from the start.
Despite trying to keep to himself, the man prodded him with slurred questions and racial remarks that dug into his nerves. With Tæven trying to keep silent, it only got worse, devolving into light shoving and a finger getting pointed in his face. The former soldier spoke up and firmly requested he be left alone, which was only met with a harder shove. Finally, something snapped in Tævens brain. A fried nerve that unbeknownst to him had been on the verge of breaking ever since he'd set foot on US soil.
He didn't even remember all that happened. All he could recollect was his vision seeing red, and coming to his senses at the sight of the same man crumpled and bleeding on the ground. The chair he'd been sitting on was shattered, as was the glass he'd been holding. His knuckles were bruised too, with one of his metacarpals having been fractured as well. It didn't take long to put two and two together.
Tæven didn't try to run, and even encouraged those who witnessed what he'd done to contact emergency services if they hadn't already. It wasn't long before they'd show up and take him away. Given is history and the context of what had happened, Tæven was given a far less severe punishment than he'd anticipated. While the drunkard he'd beaten was in pretty rough shape, it was clear he himself needed some help as well.
It was arranged that he'd be admitted to a psychiatric hospital for a time, so he could be monitored and treated for the Post Traumatic Stress that had plagued and festered his mind.
He just wanted to get this over with, so he could go back to being on his own. Just like he wanted...
Only a couple plots for right now because I'm not looking for a too many new RP's! Like one of them? Message me! Like none of them? Still shoot me a message with an idea of your own! I'm always up for something new!