MxM flexible adv. lit. seeking new partner(s) (multiple prompts)

[feyd]

» currently actively seeking? yes | no
i'm seeking but I'm also being really picky, apologies if we don't work out! i lost a bunch of my rps last summer and i'm really feeling the itch.

» general info

✿ about ✿ rules/expectations ✿ YES/NOs ✿ writing sample i ✿ writing sample ii

• » about feyd
  you can call me feyd and any pronouns go, my gender is a lawless wasteland. i'm a long-time roleplayer with about 15 years of experience under my belt. i really like building playlists, creating art/graphics, and generally getting super into my (and my partners') characters/stories.
  
  * sorry about my "cool guy" affect, i promise i'll use appropriate capitalization, punctuation, and grammar in my posts. i'm just terminally online.
  
  

  time zone	mountain time (GMT-6)
  person/tense	third person, past or present tense only
  literacy	advanced (i have a writing degree which sounds like a flex but is maybe embarrassing in this context)
  reply length	350-2500 words (consistently multi-para)
  smut/plot	anywhere from 10:90 to 40:60 depending on my partner's preference (never less than 50% plot)
  reply schedule	erratically on weekdays, mostly around evenings and weekends
  face claims	my own doodles, sometimes photobashes, sometimes photos of actual humans
  ghost/hiatus friendly?	i'd obviously prefer if you gave me a heads up if you have to bail or take a break for any reason but i won't hold it against you if you leave without warning; even if you're MIA for months, i'm happy to start back up if/when you want to! i work two jobs and have a lot of hobbies. there may be weeks where i am not replying regularly: you are welcome to prod me a little, especially in a low pressure "hey, you alive?" (vs "you didn't reply. reply. please reply.") way.

• » personal rules/expectations
  
  1. i am a ball of anxiety and can therefore get weird (avoidant) if i feel like my partner isn't enjoying roleplaying with me for any reason. to ease some of that i like to keep up a pretty consistent ooc chat. if that doesn't work for or appeal to you, that's okay—it's not a dealbreaker.
     
     
  2. i do nitpick over my writing a little bit so a decent amount of my daily reply time is lost to drafting, reviewing, editing, etc. and it would be nice if my partner also gave their posts a once-over for coherency and spelling/grammar before hitting send. not a deal-breaker, either, i'd just appreciate it!
     
     
  3. i don't like overly verbose writing (i.e. wolfspeak, excessive purple prose) and, although i'm a detailed multi-paragraph writer and would love my partner to be also, like to keep things short and snappy in dialogue-heavy moments. the important thing is that your reply contains enough interaction for me to craft a response. if most of your post takes place inside your character's head, i don't have a lot to go on!
     
     
  4. my characters are not their preferred position in bed. i don't play top/bottom stereotypes, i play complex characters, and i'd prefer that my partner does, too. (i have also gotten very bored of playing opposite soft, bland, effeminate male characters. the only problem with these types is that the rp market is saturated with them... if you're willing to play literally anything else i would especially love to hear from you!)
     
     
  5. i consider character sheets one of the great joys of roleplaying and i love making them. even if they're not entirely complete, i like both of us to have access to some basic notes on each other's characters!

• » YES	» NO
  ROMANCE the romantic element is central to all of my plot ideas/prompts because i enjoy exploring that dynamic from different angles. that said, i prefer a slow burn with a lot of time dedicated to character development and relationship-building. i like romance but i also like to work for it!	PLOT MOVEMENT WITHOUT COMMUNICATION it doesn't need to be constant but i like to know where we're headed. if you have a fun exchange, line, dynamic, or scene that you think might be interesting (even if there's no path leading that direction yet) lay it on me. i'd love to find a reason to work toward it!
  SMUT i'd probably prefer something in the realm of 20-30 smut:70-80 plot though i will happily wiggle those numbers in either direction for the right partner. i am also willing to fade-to-black if that's your comfort zone though it's not my preference.	LITERAL 1x1 WITH NO SIDE CHARACTERS even if our story focuses on two main characters, i prefer a variable cast to keep the roleplay moving and engaging. i also enjoy doubling up when it works!
  DARK THEMES/VIOLENCE anything goes on the "violence/gore" front (within the bounds of site rules). i can't handle gore in film (and am only a little better in real life) but in writing, go hog-wild. i am happy to respect my partner's preferences on this! likewise on dark themes.	PARTNERS UNDER 21 sorry! i'm in my late 20s and, because of the kind of roleplays i'm looking for, i'd really prefer not to roleplay with someone significantly younger than i am. thank you for understanding and respecting that.
  "KINKS" i'm not here to roleplay any specific kinks or fetishes: that said, if you don't see it listed to the right, i'm probably down!	"KINKS" everything that's against site rules; deviantart fetishes (inflation, vore, etc.); pregnancy/mpreg; incest (including step-relatives); race play; significant (>10 year) age gaps, though i'm more forgiving of this the older the characters are; DDLG Dom/sub dynamics; watersports/scat; explicit rape/noncon; feet

• » writing sample I
  intro (deserted roleplay)
  Matty had been in Stillwater for three days. Or at least he'd been a rent-paying citizen of Stillwater for three days; prior to that he'd been a visitor, holed up in a motel that he was pretty sure would have had its single-star rating expunged and its rooms purged if human beings ever actually stayed in it. As it was, his rental had been the only car in the parking lot for as long as he'd boarded there and the only company he'd enjoyed had been that of a cockroach the size of a golf ball that lived behind the en suite toilet. The fact that his most recent move, into the 70s-era basement suite of a newly-divorced mechanic named Lyle, constituted a significant upgrade wasn't even the worst thing about his situation. The worst thing, Matty had decided, was a local dive bar called the Blue Heron—and his presence in it.
  
  The thing was, Matty Simard liked bars. One could generally get a feel for the pulse of a city by frequenting a handful of its most prominent pubs and clubs and he had spent a not-insubstantial amount of time conducting interviews within their dimly lit confines, interactions well-lubricated by cocktails purchased on a company credit card, back when he'd had access to such a luxury. Those were the 'fun' interviews; the ones where he got to chase fresh details that would separate his writing from the chaff and, most importantly, where no one cried or cussed him out for dredging up painful memories. It was an unspoken rule of his to acquaint himself with local bars and it practically became a job requirement in small towns. These haunts were where gossip went to die and, years after a scandal rocked them, sleepy towns would pay lip service to nearly-forgotten drama at the altar of piss-warm beer. It was always a safe bet to begin your research with a bartender.
  
  What he'd failed to consider was just how backwoods Stillwater was. Matty hadn't set foot in a town this small since the age of eighteen and he'd forgotten that there were still parts of the world where more than one taproom would be the most opulent kind of overkill—so, in the spirit of making do with what was available, he had decided to turn the Blue Heron Lounge into his first project. In these early stages, that basically meant showing up for a drink on a semi-regular basis; he needed to acclimate the small cohort of regulars to his presence, as if they were fish and he was a sizable deposit of peat moss, before he started poking around in their business. Having been very quickly humbled on his first visit—the big city camaraderie that was Matty's bread and butter had gotten him nowhere—he had spent this one nursing first one, then another, then an ill-advised third watery highball and people-watching. There was, fortunately, a somewhat larger crowd this evening than there had been on the Tuesday afternoon of his first attempt.
  
  It had been a handful of the most mind-numbing hours of his life. He remembered overhearing his father complaining about stakeouts when he was young, the venomous 'putain d'ennuyeux' hissed at a volume no child was meant to overhear, and thought maybe he understood. The night was fast-approaching some kind of resolution; either Matty was going to stand up, leave a substantial tip in the jar on the counter, and take the rental car back to his new home or he was going to order another drink (make it a double) and say something regrettable to a stranger. Something like 'What can you tell me about the prevalence of violent crime in Stillwater?'
  
  He was spared that fate by a sense of déjà vu so powerful that he could have sworn he'd been transported back to his university days—just a few tables over, some loudmouth was disparaging the boys in blue. It was like a siren song; Matty's head turned toward the source before he'd even registered that he was moving and no sooner had he centered the hulking speaker in his field of vision than a reply emanated from somewhere nearer the bar. The words of this rejoinder were unintelligible to Matty; either because the speaker was slurring or because the comfortable noise of the Heron masked it, he couldn't say. From there he had time to register three pieces of information before things slid sideways in an all-too-familiar direction: the hulk was Lovejoy, his heckler was LaFleur… and this fight did not look fair.
  
  The first punch made him grimace involuntarily. For a terrible moment he thought that LaFleur (why did that sound so familiar?) had lost a tooth—something small and white had definitely left his mouth—and then the woman whose drink it was garnishing picked it out and flicked the wet cigarette onto the floor at Matty's feet.
  
  Since the disagreement sounded personal, and not rooted in bootlicking, Matty found himself standing. Although he'd never been the type to intervene in fights that he wasn't already at the center of, he had a job to do here and the last thing he wanted was to spend tomorrow writing about something as passé as a bar brawl-turned-manslaughter just because someone had happened to die while he was close by. There would be no glamorous coverage of a fight like this: Mr. LaFleur, 20- or 30-something, died face down in a pool of his own vomit on the floor of the worst roadhouse this reporter has ever set foot in. Mr. Lovejoy, his alleged assailant, could not be reached for comment but his handiwork (ha ha) precedes him. Better to avoid it if he could… and then some lonely neuron fired in the back of his brain. LaFleur. As in Elliot LaFleur, the man whose inbox (if not trash folder) was almost certainly bursting with unopened variations of the same email from Matty, sent over a period of weeks prior to the move.
  
  "Whoa, hey, okay!" When his voice hit the air, Matty was pleased to hear just the right note of deferential and non-threatening in it. Good. Never take a punch for someone who won't even respond to your emails. Holding a hand up in the vague direction of Lovejoy, Matty moved toward the pair and shot a fleeting look around the room; where was the 21-year-old bouncer with something to prove that these places usually boasted? Seeing nothing, he addressed the aggressor with a gesture at Elliot: "Hey, great hit. Really nailed him. You mind if I peel him off the floor and get him out of your hair?"
• » writing sample II
  practice intro/character exercise
  True to form, Hitch Galloway was already in the saddle as the sun rose over the eastern horizon. He was also soaked to the skin, though that was less characteristic. It had been a hard night of riding, through conditions that would have been better enjoyed from under a roof, but beggars couldn't always be choosers. Hitch's luck had run out in his last place of residence and, over the years, he'd found it best to cross county lines sooner rather than later when that happened: it had been time to move on. He might be known here—after all, he'd left a trail of Wanted posters a mile wide ("WARREN GALLOWAY, $1000 reward for the man who robbed this bank or that train") in his wake—but there were no bounties on his head in these parts and that was as good as a writ of pardon to someone like Hitch. Hell, he was practically a new man.
  
  "Think you need a deputy."
  
  Alright, a new man with some of the same proclivities.
  
  The speaker was a weathered, greying rustler pushing fifty and Hitch was hard-pressed to remember his actual name—he'd been calling the man "Barnum" for the last three days, on account of his measured way of speaking. Barnum was one of a pair of cattle rustlers (the old man called their third "Rook") that Hitch had temporarily fallen in with; seasoned as he might be, even Hitch knew that it was suicide to ride through badlands alone. Barnum and Rook provided a measure of security, as he and his pistols did for them, and the promise of a small payoff at the end of the journey if they could find a buyer for the thirty-odd head of stolen cattle the group was currently moving.
  
  "You ever meet an outlaw with a deputy, hoss?" Hitch returned, pulling his hat low over blue eyes to shield them from the rising sun. "This ain't no government operation."
  
  "Partner, then." Barnum's voice, nearly as deep as Hitch's own, never lost that inflectionless calm. He sounded like he was reading from a bible. "Wouldn't need to take up with every odd fish that crosses your path if you had'n."
  
  Hitch chose to let that self-deprecating remark slide: it wasn't inaccurate. "I've got a perfectly good partner already." When Barnum shot him what he assumed passed for a quizzical look on that impassive face, the corners of Hitch's mouth lifted in a lazy grin. "You find me a better horse than this one," he patted the red-roaned neck of his mount. "I'll deputize him."
  
  Barnum snorted, sensing a lost argument, and wheeled his own horse around good-naturedly to join Rook at the back of the herd. The hand that still lingered on the roan's neck near-matched the hair for colour; they were the same flavour, Hitch and his horse—both mottled and freckled with red—and the animal, Fiddle, really was the closest thing that he had to a second-in-command. The lifestyle he lived meant that Hitch frequently had to work with other people and he preferred to start from the ground up every time. There were risks but, to his mind, the advantages outweighed them: no power struggles, no baggage, no interpersonal arguments to be had… no bullshit. He liked Barnum and Rook well enough but they'd part ways at the edge of the next town and he'd wash his hands of their operation—unless he had to go out of his way to collect on the reimbursement he was now owed. He hoped it wouldn't come to that.
  
  x
  
  By the time barren landscape narrowed to the suggestion of a well-trod trail, the sun was high and Hitch was praying for a breeze to cool his skin under the warm-but-still-damp clothing.
  
  By the time they encountered their first true dirt road, he was no longer damp.
  
  Thirty head wasn't a big herd and, for the purposes of moving cattle, three men were an excessive entourage; the trio had worked it out so that the man coming fresh off the lead position could doze at the back until the next switch, where he would take the active position at the rear. It was Hitch who had just switched spots with Rook and was presently reclined in his saddle at the back of the train, trying to convince himself that his back didn't ache. While he was a pretty good liar, Hitch was also pretty well-acquainted with his own corral dust and his back wasn't selling the lie: it ached fierce.
  
  "Reckon it's about time you split." Barnum's voice, drifting back toward Hitch over the rustler's shoulder, had the same gently oppressive quality as the humid air around them. Hitch made a neutral sort of sound and the other man continued, "Seeing as we're on a main thoroughfare and you wanted—" There was a pause and Hitch could practically hear Barnum's eyebrows knitting together in a habitual frown. "Plausible deniability."
  
  "Sure as hell," Hitch agreed, pushing his hat back to squint past Rook. He supposed he could make out a few buildings on the horizon… maybe he'd been dozing longer than he'd thought. Hitch smiled that slow smile and repeated himself. "Sure as hell. You boys carry on your way, then, and don't be shy about hollering when you see some returns on our investment." Truth be told, he'd had nearly enough of Barnum's interjections into his respite over the last few hours and he looked forward to sitting down in a shady saloon to drink in peace. There was a brief conversation with Rook as Hitch breezed by just before he spurred Fiddle into a canter but he couldn't have recalled any of it; his mind was miles ahead at a cool bar, waiting for the rest of him to hurry up and catch it. He was eager to oblige.
  
  Without realizing it, Hitch's eyes were casting about for a handful of specific structures: a bank, a train station, unattended hitching posts, and any saloon busy enough that it might serve as a card house. This was standard procedure on the ride into any new town but he was usually riding into town at night and with a fire under his saddle. Just now, in the heat of the day, he only need worry that this town might be a hotbed of bounty hunters (which he doubted very much). Hitch would have days or longer to case the settlement as long as he kept his nose clean and, given that he wasn't hard-pressed for funds, that should be easy. In fact, there was an awful lot of coin weighing down Hitch's pouch following that last robbery. That seemed to be the way with luck: it burned real hot just before it ran out.
  
  Hitch dismounted outside the first saloon he spotted and took a moment to stretch like he'd been packed inside a barrel instead of riding under the open air. Once Fiddle was hitched to a post—and he'd made sure his poke was tied securely around his own neck, since he knew firsthand how sticky certain fingers could be—Hitch slipped through the double doors and took a breath of cool, stagnant air. There were a handful of folks seated at tables around the bar but nothing terribly exciting seemed to be happening… yet. A lot of these sleepy towns woke up a little behind the doors of their local saloons as the sun went down. He approached the bar, scanning to see if this was the kind of place that kept Wanted posters as decor (relieved to see it was not), and ordered himself a beer that was just this side of lukewarm when the barkeep set it on the counter. It went down like ambrosia.
  
  "I don't think I caught it on the ride in," he found himself saying to the barman, falling easily into that amiable saloon chatter he'd been deprived of recently. "What's the name of this town?"

» pairing/plot ideas

✿ table of contents ✿ one ✿ two ✿ three ✿ four ✿ five

• MC/YC - my character/your character: if i use this styling, it means i have a preference for which i'd like to play. (sometimes i have a specific character.)
  C1/C2 - character 1/character 2: if i am using this format, i don't care which role either of us takes!
  
  click through the headers for a detailed synopsis of each prompt
  

  prompt one	role preference | period | western | outlaw/lawman (alternately: outlaw/man of the cloth) | betrayal | angst | pining | friends to enemies to lovers?
  prompt two	no role preference | modern | night club | fake relationship | slow burn | mutual pining
  prompt three	no role preference | modern | hollywood | love triangle | illicit relationship | actor/publicist
  prompt four	role preference | multi-character | dual plotline | high fantasy | magic as a metaphor | secret relationship | political intrigue | prince/assassin | rebel/rebel informant
  prompt five	no role preference | low fantasy | post-apocalyptic | magic powers | gang leader/rival gang member | enemies-to-lovers
  more coming soon...	further plots tba, i really have to get more fantasy and sci fi on this list

• pairing:	outlaw x lawman, western (late 1800s)
  setting:	fictitious american frontier town
  plot:	My Character is a gunslinger and a thief—an outlaw who just skipped counties in order to outrun the multiple bounties on his head. YC is the lawman of a desert settlement whose gold-filled valleys have turned it into a boomtown. With the influx of prospectors there has also been a flood of entrepreneurs and petty criminals, both hoping to capitalize on the ready-made wealth. MC's arrival in town happens to coincide with a conflict between YC and a local criminal, where MC happens to lend a helping hand. The ratio of crime to crimefighters leads to an agreement being struck between the two and MC agrees to aid YC, who is unaware of his history, in keeping the peace. Inevitably, MC takes advantage of this trust to further his own criminal ends and, when YC finds out, their alliance is shattered. When circumstance forces them to rekindle their partnership, MC sees the opportunity to make things right—and maybe redeem himself. (i also have a half-baked idea for a version of this plot where YC is a protestant priest/pastor/minister so like? that's an option)

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• pairing:	recently single x person who's been pining for them, modern (emphasis on night club scene)
  setting:	anywhere from the 80s to present, a heavy dose of clubbing/night life
  plot:	C1 just went through a nasty breakup with an ex that he's still pining for. C2 is a distant acquaintance who has had his eye on C1 for a while but would never have made a move for a number of reasons, possibly including but not limited to: tense interactions in the past, differing social statuses, the belief that C1 is out of his league … and, oh yeah, the fact that C1 was in what was a happy relationship by all accounts. when C1 runs into his ex at a nightclub with their new beau, the despair and bitterness nearly overwhelm him—which is when C2 appears, offering his services to make the ex jealous. they set some ground rules that are doomed to be broken and plenty of angst ensues while C1 actively tries to win back his ex and C2 tries equally desperately to win C1 over to a relationship with him.‎

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• pairing:	famous actor x his publicist, modern hollywood (80s to present)
  setting:	probably starting in modern LA, though there's ample excuse for jetsetting to various other locations
  plot:	C2 is a publicist for their client (C1) whose career is just starting to take off (we can decide what his "niche" is). with a lot riding on his latest upcoming film, C1's agent thinks C2 should cook up a story about a relationship between him and his co-star (male or female) to generate buzz. this involves arranging dates and calling in paparazzi for photo ops for the two of them... but it also involves C1 and C2 spending more time together than they've ever had reason to before. as a real relationship starts to blossom behind the scenes of the fake one, our characters will have to navigate the press, their feelings, the (perhaps too-real) feelings of the co-star, and a contract that contains explicit language on C2's fraternization policy. (bonus points if one of them is an openly out gay or bisexual and the other is closeted. maybe the publicist Realizes Some Things while he's organizing dates for two men.)‎

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• pairings:	a. prince x assassin, fantasy high court forbidden romance b. rebel x rebel informant/spy, underground magical rebellion
  setting:	this one is multi-main character/dual plotline. high fantasy monarchy, magic is the sole demesne of scholars and nobility; at least in this particular kingdom, common people are forbidden from practicing.
  plot:	» a plot: My Character 1 is a shapeshifting assassin who has been sent to observe, in order to eventually eliminate and take the place of, the ruling king. he finds the king uncommonly difficult to get close to... but his son, YC 1, much easier. i'm picturing acquaintances to friends to lovers—while the deadline for murder (MC 1) and maybe a pre-arranged marriage? (YC 1) closes in on them. » b plot: MC 2 is a magic-practicing member of a local rebel faction whose younger brother (along with other suspected practitioners in the city surrounding the castle) has been kidnapped into custody. YC 2 is a non-magical employee at the castle with uncommon freedom (maybe childhood friend of YC 1?) and some involvement with the rebels. (i'll leave it up to you whether they're being paid off or have a vendetta or are just on the side of equality.) after a botched attack on the castle by the rebel group, YC 2 reaches out to offer their assistance and MC 2 volunteers for the inside job in hopes of finding his brother » combining them: ultimately the dissolution of the monarchy or the dethroning of the reigning king will solve both problems and i cannot wait to brainstorm how we'd like that to go with you.

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• pairing:	gang leader x rival gang member, post-apocalyptic fantasy
  setting:	maybe a decade post-magical apocalypse. the Death of Industry/Capitalism, monstrous entities roaming, gangs, whose members have newly acquired myriad magical powers, are warring with each other in the shadows of ruined skyscrapers. (the setting is very loose and, to me, just an indistinct backdrop; i have no particular inspiration for it and am happy to sort of build-as-we-go. if you are particularly inspired, i will put the reins in your hands so fast!)
  plot:	C1 is a long-term but low-ranking gang member whose superior has it out for him for personal reasons; C2 is the secretive, gifted leader of a rival gang. when C1 is sent out on a mission that seems routine, but from which his leader has reason to expect he won't return, he crosses paths with C2 (not knowing their name or rank) and members of their gang in a dangerous situation. shit hits the fan, C2's squad goes down around them, and he and C1 barely escape. after becoming aware that he's been set up, C1 (temporarily?) defects to the rival gang. the threat that resulted in the aforementioned "dangerous situation" is mounting, there are members of C2's gang who want nothing to do with taking in an "enemy", and there are interpersonal issues with C1's previous family (gang). we can focus on whatever conflict(s) we want! my character would be this guy right here (whether he's the leader or the rival does not matter to me!)

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* NOTE: I would love to "layer" plot ideas so if you have something you'd particularly like to play that you think would combine well with or make a good addition to anything you see here, please reach out! i'm happy to tweak my plots to make something fit if i think it would be fun to play.

feel free to reply or pm me if anything caught your eye!​

 

[feyd]

* i'm currently really craving a quick start—i still want an interesting and engaging plot but in more of a 'work it out as we go' style! if that's your thing, let me know *