MxM Fantasy/ Original plots/ Romance 7/25

[Hiro_]

CURRENTLY ACCEPTING ROLEPLAYS

What I'm looking for

A partner that takes their time with responses, I don't want something that seems rushed.

Quality over quantity is important.

Feel free to add twists or extra things not included in the main plot as long as it goes with the "story".

IMPORTANT Please contribute or I will quit the play/plotting.



About me
Romance plz. I enjoy romances, tragedy, horror, and angst/dramatic/horrible dark themes, occasional fluff.
I am mainly a Fantasy roleplayer. I do enjoy a certain level of realism in my plots even if they are fantasy based. I will not entertain slice of life rps.
Based in EST, I am a [Switch] who is proficient and fluid. I do not stick to one dynamic, I go where the story takes me.
I am driven by how original and captivating a character is in both appearance and personality. I am also driven by how interesting the story plot is.
I occasionally draw oc's from RPS.

I will NOT use real face claims and please do not send me random intro posts.

Pairings
Demon / Angel-Other
Demon / Human-Priest
Demon Prince / Mage-slave
Daemon/ Demon Hunter
Human / Merman
King-Prince / Squire-Knight
King / Magical advisor
Mage / Any
Knight / Enemy
Noble-human-royalty / Barbarian
Dragon / Villager-tamer/rider-Mage-prince



****I am very fond of high fantasy or medieval fantasy,
Advanced Utopia's/Eden's, Neo-Victorian/Modern-Victorian settings.

Other things I like
Unrequited love / Angst / drama / thriller / Falling for the enemy / sadomasochism / obsessions / creepy themes / blood-play / hatemance[love-hate] / dragons / misanthropy / brutality / stalkers / open sandbox rps / elves / tainting-corruption / Ancient Egypt / Feudal era Japan / Victorian settings / medieval

If you hit me up for an rp, please make sure you know what you want before hand or at least an idea, just hitting me up saying you wanna rp but giving me nothing to work with does not work for me and I WILL Ignore you.


Basic plots and ideas
Bolded are roles I'm interested in


Idea
A tactless mage is living in an overgrown cathedral.

Curse of Vērus
A Mage discovers a text of an Arcane magic called Vērus, he dedicates his life to studying it. When the Elders of Mage society learn of the magic, they seek him and the text wanting to use his ability and knowledge for personal gain.

Idea
A wandering Mage who now spends his time selling magical items and performing exorcisms meets a prince who bears a curse only he can break but it comes with a catch.

Trading Luxury
A xenophobic nation that sparingly lets in outsiders is surrounded by rumors of miracles birthed from its mystery. A flourishing nation of trade known well in the world; wanting to establish a route with this mysterious country sets up diplomatic relations with the nation, their goods in exchange for the nations trust. MC

Autocratic Romance
The last of the surviving royals of Saybir were to be hung in the main town square as the Church so deviously sought. Those of their knights that had remained loyal were to have their throats slit and their family line finished. The church's crusade against Magic and their safe havens had grown exponentially violent. Having conquered Saybir with a body count beyond imagination the streets of cobbled stone ran red with the blood of the slain. Covered in death, he lamented the loss of those he cared for, friends and family alike, he swore to achieve redemption for his people; no matter the cost.

The weight of one's heart
To save the heart of one of Isis' most beloved humans; the son of a mighty Pharaoh, she sends her closest confidant to guide him. The brother of the Pharaoh has sent many assassins to kill both the Pharaoh and his son in pursuit of power which has now given him a heart as hard as stone and the eyes of a bloodthirsty monster. He must be saved by the confidant or his heart shall be devoured.

Captured
He is a wealthy man; a collector of beautiful things happens upon the discovery of a life time one day while on boarding a yacht party. The party goers noticed a big commotion a couple of boats down as they arrived. A fisherman with a prized catch he shows off. The catch is a Merman; getting a good view of he is compelled to own him at all cost.

Devouring you
There is a legend of the Gagoze, a demon who attacks priests and devours them to gain more power.
Choosing a fresh youth among those new to priesthood with strong power and skill he kidnaps them and takes them to his hold, a place deep within the local forest. There he keeps the youth bound as he prepares the man for his meal.

A Debt Owed
Dragons have dual forms in these but are mostly just whispers/myths that no one truly believes.
A villager happens upon a wounded Dragon and decides to take care of it forming a friendship with the creature. All is well until locals find out and attempt to kill the Dragon out of fear of their destruction. The villager interferes, getting hurt in the process. Out of misplaced obligation, the Dragon protects the man accidentally killing some of the other villagers before ultimately kidnapping the man and nursing him to health; both fulfilling his debt while also revealing his true form.

The Mage's Idiot
A thief happens upon a seemingly abandoned home weaved into the roots of a tree deep in the wood. Trying to find a place to hide he enters the place and finds that someone actually does live there, a mage. As he tries to leave before the owner can detect him he accidentally breaks an object, bestowing a curse upon himself.
​

Reminder these are ideas. They are not law, we can do original plots or plotting with disjointed ideas.
You can try and convince me to do strike pairings and plots​

 

[Hiro_]

SAMPLE 1:

Sunset.

The sky turned an eerie shade of blood, in the distance there were clashes of metal, bodies, and screams. It should have been an easy win at first. His kind were cunning, intelligent, had great tactics, strategies, weaponry, and fighting techniques. The barbaric folk that had occupied a small territory of the Queador region should have fallen like flies. The assumption was the only thing that they had were pots and beads. No brains, no way to defend themselves against a rain of arrows, against elegant swordsmanship, or against the poisoned foods they would smuggle into the enemy camp. Those of which lead to stomach aches and death. And yet the enemy had seemed to prevail. Lord Haemus, who led his region strictly and fairly like any Lord of the land should, had watched from afar as his men felled the others who showed up with inferior weapons.

It had been an easy decision at first. Word had reached him in his home that the Eastern villages in his region were threatened by Barbarians who refused to leave and that instead of expanding as he had planned, they had become a thorn in his side preventing such acts. They had become one so much so that he decided that they could no longer live their normal lives. "Wie zijn het?"[what do you think] He'd asked in his native tongue. "Gewoon een stel domme barbaren."[Just a bunch of stupid barbarians] His most trusted general had answered. As each man fell only one was left standing.

He was a good tactician, a good ruler, a politician, but not a fighter by far. His appearance was elegant in clothing, he was old; he carried wrinkles under his eyes and a nose round and big. His skin was a peachy-tan with a slight redness to his cheeks. He held a beard of white and brown. Though he was old he was handsome for his age, well kept. Long, straight, brown hair with salt and pepper strands, stopped just at his shoulder blade; with never a strand out of place. His eyes were a piercing blue like the sky on a perfect day.. To battle he wore a protective armour, but it was more decorative than functional since he rarely ever used it. He stayed far away from the violence that his men performed in his name.

"Verleng de vrede." [extend peace]

"Meent u dat, mijn heer?" [Are you serious, my lord?" His general asked incredulously.

"Nee."[no] He had not been sincere and he was being generous with his words. He did not want to compromise with such a barbaric people. He expected the clan to be like dogs. They were efficient and effective under their leader's guidance, but alone they would be lost and confused. It would take them time to regroup when their leader was dead, and showing how they would conquer him would instill fear upon them. His general's tense behavior eased and he smiled at his lord. He was a smart man, it was why he was trusted as a general in the first place. He caught on to what Haemus was up to.

To undermine them, that's what he estimated, anyway. This peace negotiation was a ruse. They would kill the leader's companions, tie the powerful man up with precision, and bring him to an undisclosed location. A nearby fortress perhaps one that functioned as a holiday home for the Lord himself. It was vital that they would learn the clan's tactical information and find out how it was that they could stand their ground for so long against an army that was so much more organized. If they could learn from this man, they would become an even stronger people. He could use this edge in future battles, and negotiations. The final step was easy and simple. Kill the barbarian leader, eradicate the brood, and go back to the way things were. Expanding his power and his territory without hinder.

Sundown.

The sky became a dark blue that faded into black, the sound of rustling and murmurs. Clanking of men's armor and the sound of nature, He sat beside the carnage listening to these sounds while he waited. In a tent that his men had set up, in the back of an encampment. He had a table prepared, two comfortable chairs that were large enough to fit an average human, and a man like himself. The table was set up with a pot of hot tea, beautifully crafted porcelain tea-cups, and even a bottle of unopened wine that had a taste as sweet as ripe fruits. The tent was lit by several candles. Frankly, he felt uncomfortable. He had his best men inside the tent, and several others just outside the canvas. He was well protected, but he had not been so close to the enemy for as long as he could remember. All he could hope for was that everything would go well, and that the barbarian leader did not catch on much.

He was told the battle had ended with the enemy scattering to the winds. Their percision on the field and battle tactics won them just a tad bit more territory. A gain on his side, but once more they would have to take up arms. There was more to conquer. More land to expand to. He had managed to trick the man into negotiation, allowing him 4 guards of his as an escort for comfort. When he had start to approach he listened to the whispers he knew the other was coming. Taking a cup of tea from the table that sat before him he lifted it to his lips, his beard dipping in the liquid as he drank it. When he placed it down he took a napkin, tapped his face and set it back down. Wrinkling his forehead he was annoyed at this. He wanted nothing more than to kill this leader, or whatever he would call himself.

The soldiers were on alert. Their change in posture was enough to tell their noble leader that the barbarians had appeared in their vicinity. The general on high alert. His sword was raised defensively, although his pose could change in a matter of seconds should he need to attack. Two others copied the slightly aggressive posture. They were perfectly in sync, trained to be precise and effective.

Taking a cup of tea from the table that sat before him he lifted it to his lips, his beard dipping in the liquid as he drank it. When he placed it down he took a napkin, tapped his face and set it back down. Wrinkling his forehead he was annoyed at this. He wanted nothing more than to kill this leader, or whatever he would call himself. He stood up and left the cup of tea that he had been drinking on the beautifully decorated table within the artificial safety of the tent. Without asking or waiting for answers he stepped towards the opening and moved the flap to the side to have a good look at what was actually transpiring. He had not heard fighting, neither had he heard anyone approaching the tent's entrance. Just whispers.

---

SAMPLE 2
It displeased him to have the chieftain station guards outside of the entrance but he did not say anything to the contrary of him doing it. When the man sat he noted every movement the other made and detail in the manner in which he made it. Haemus was calculating more in his head the odds of him simply winning by making the order now. Perhaps he should and just get it over with. He let his cold calculating eyes scan the room. There were 3 of his guards stationed here and 4 outside. It would be easy pickings and considering they were in the heart of his encampment he would win even if those were felled.

Heamus sat down in the chair across the ma watching the others fingers trace the table's carvings. They did not know luxury from what he gathered and the funny thing was, this was by no means the most luxurious item he owned. Carved tables and decorative porcelain were common among his people. They really were cavemen. The tent was lit by oil lamps that let the flame dance upon their skin highlighting areas that were the closest to it or raised. Such as the wrinkles on his face. the light played with them as he moved around highlighting his age.

"I am Lord Haemus."

He said in a voice softer than he wanted it to be. He cleared his throat lifting a hand to his lips as he did so and after he took his tea to clear the dryness before placing it down and speaking again. "I see you are a strong person, Gaius." He spoke to the other, lifting the pot of tea before him and pouring the other man a cup. He laced the tea.

"I have had great difficulty." He continued, "It is not often I am challenged in such ways. To keep down unnecessary bloodshed I felt these negotiations were pertinent." He paused, putting the pot down and then returning to his original posture. He sat with his back almost straight and proper. A show of his noble breeding, the education and sophistication of his people and himself, were granted. Every action and every word was carefully thought out.

Those outside of the tent were picked up and he wondered why they felt the need to gossip. Perhaps, though, they did so because this was unheard of for him. He would simply crush his enemy by now but he had not. It was weird. "Your people are strong and proud. Perhaps we can come to an agreement on what will happen going forward." His combat would not work with these people even if he was at the top of his game.

Only moments before this all took place did the noble Lord's son Edon, wander towards his father's tent. He wore a slim outfit made of fine cloth but would be much simpler in design than the clothing his father normally wore. Its creamy colour is clean, neat; not a wrinkle out of order. He wore slimmed down high waist pants, with a tied brown leather belt. His shirt was slimming and simple with a complex back. Even his shoes were simple and yet so complex. He had left his collared shawl in his tent thinking it unnecessary to wear. The weather was nearly perfect for him tonight.

Edon could tell his people were captivated by these foreigners that he was taught were a barbarian like people that had no sense of decency or refinery. He was so curious about them. He thought, if his father truly believed such a thing that there would be no negotiation. So learning of this act was unheard of to him and his people. He assumed it was a farce. Though, he wanted to see it through to see "them". He had never seen foreigners before or heard foreign language. He never even left his home to join a battle before. He was old enough now to finally be taught in real time. He had been trained for this moment, to take over in his fathers stead if he should be felled by man or illness. He spent many years learning the ways of his people and how to protect and prosper for them.

Edon weaved between the tents until he was near the one his father occupied, his delicate features that held a small smile faded as he stopped merely feet away from the tent. He had thought the light was playing tricks on him, the flame dancing around the cloth of the tents. He could see people he had never seen before standing there. Such tall people. Their skin was like chocolate and their hair was plaited in intricate ways. Unlike his which was braided, messy, and rested over his shoulder. He was fascinated by their clothing and weapons, much different than what he was used to. He wanted to play with these items, he wanted to see what they were like up close and to test them out He pressed a gloved hand to his chest in a fist. He could feel a bit of fear leak from the pit of his stomach as he thought of the repercussions of such curiosity.

Edon took in a deep breath before releasing it, he needed to draw courage to enter. He lifted his head slightly but not so much to seem superior and walked the rest of the way to the tents opening where two of them were. He hesitated a moment to move forward through the opening but managed to do so. He lifted it, the light from the oil lamps capturing his features much like they did his fathers but on his face there were no wrinkles. He was a youthful man in his early 20's, his hand dropping as the flap to the opening did too. He spoke, his voice much unlike his fathers as well. He was softer spoken, his voice seeming so quiet in comparison. "Vader.." He stopped talking, the words stuck in his throat. He stood there simply staring just as he had done before but this time he did not stare and admired all of their curious weapons and clothing. Instead he stared directly at the man sitting across from his father confirming what the guards had said.

Edon let his blue eyes trace over this man, his features were so different and striking to him, he had dark skin and long dreaded hair. He wondered how the texture felt. He eyed this man's clothing, that was much different from what the other two he saw before wore. He traced the man's face with his eyes and then his build. He could not think, he felt he could not breathe almost.

Edon was brought out of his thoughts when his father cleared his throat. It was as if it broke him out of a spell, a light flush filling his cheeks. "Het spijt me, vader." He spoke turning to the man that he held dear but still feared. "Het is in orde, mijn zoon." His father said, and this was curious to him. He was not normally this.. kind? Actually his father was never this kind. He felt as if he was in trouble but he had done nothing wrong. He also did not want to get in trouble for being there but he felt he needed to be. That if he was to take over one day he should also be present to learn. It was also to cure his curiosity, but that he would keep that to himself. "Ik wilde hier zijn, met toestemming. Als ik daarin wil slagen, zal ik moeten leren hoe ik diplomatieke onderhandelingen moet voeren en begrijpen." He took a step back, waiting for his father to punish him for being so forward; to be told he was not still a child and would be beaten for his impertinence. To his surprise his father turned to him.

Haemus' wrinkled old face pulled into a hollow smile. He was annoyed. This was inconvenient. This child would ruin his plans. Give him away but he could not deny him. What he said was true, sure enough, but with company he needed to keep up the kind farce. He could not deny the boy even if he wanted to. Feeling backed into a wall he gave a faint nod. Motioning for the boy to join him he said simply, "Erg goed." Pointing to a spot beside him where the boy was to stand and it pleased him that his son showed determination and commitment. He turned back to Gaius and smiled in that same fake way as before. "This is my son, Edon. Pardon his intrusion." He gave a slight nod as he spoke. "He is of the age to learn these negotiations. He is my heir. It is only fair to allow him a place."

Edon picked up on his father speaking in common and would do the same to best communicate. "My apologies." He bowed his head forward and a part of his upper body in forgiveness, but to also show respect. Haemus found this uncomfortable, interrupting by clearing his throat again. "May we continue?" He motioned to Gaius which made Edon straighten his back paying close attention to them, his eyes stealing glances at the other man lingering for moments at a time. He felt a flutter in his chest. Whether it was fear of the other man or fear of his father he was unsure.