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Hey all!
Just looking for someone interested in playing a male role for a loose high fantasy plot that I've been brewing.
I've been working on my female role for about two years, but still have a bit of fleshing out to do. I'm happy to make/send character sheets to anyone interested in plotting!
Some of my requirements:
My character is an estranged daughter of Dionysus, cursed by her father for her insubordination. She must find a way to rid herself of the curse, or else she will be forced to return to her father's feet to beg him for mercy.
That's about it! Feel free to message me if you're interested!
Just looking for someone interested in playing a male role for a loose high fantasy plot that I've been brewing.
I've been working on my female role for about two years, but still have a bit of fleshing out to do. I'm happy to make/send character sheets to anyone interested in plotting!
Some of my requirements:
- I write a l o t. I'd like my writing partners to be multi-para + minimum.
- romance won't be right off the bat, I very much prefer a slow-burn
- i will only be doing fade-to-black when it comes to things involving sex, out of respect for my parter.
My character is an estranged daughter of Dionysus, cursed by her father for her insubordination. She must find a way to rid herself of the curse, or else she will be forced to return to her father's feet to beg him for mercy.
She hesitated, watching him scale the wall and disappear into the old warehouse. She chewed on her lips for a moment. It wasn't a great idea for her to linger around.
Two demigods were bound to gain the attention of something else around them, and she didn't exactly have any offensive powers, so it was up to her physical prowess to defend herself. Being on her own since twelve, it took a long while for her to cover much ground at first. She was young and naïve, suddenly and completely alone when she was used to being practically leashed by her father. She was caught stealing multiple times before she started really learning.
The energy the two gave off together would be far more potent than if they were on their own. She assumed him to be aware of that, too, so she was grateful evermore of his offer.
Reluctantly, Euphrasia ascended the wall, following him up through the hole in the attic. Her hands and feet hit old carpet, soft from years of weathering. It felt much nicer than the cobblestones they had just been sprinting on. She did her best to not make a show of looking around, not wanting to draw attention to herself while still gauging her surroundings. It was clear that he had been taking care of this place, fixing it up as best he could. A ghost of a smile graced her lips— good. It was much better than the lifestyle she had chosen. She tried her best to romanticize it, saying it made her feel like a nymph. No matter how she painted it, though, she still slept outside, hidden up in a tree.
She watched as he collapsed onto his bed, being as quiet as possible in order to let him get his rest. She stayed bundled up in the corner, her legs up against her chest with her arms wrapped around them. Though it appeared quite uncomfortable, Euphrasia still managed to doze off in this position.
It must have been at least a few hours when she woke up again with a start, forgetting where she was for a moment as her disoriented mind scrambled for clues. Finally, her brain fully woke up and reminded her of what had happened. Her shoulders relaxed and she let out a soft, slow exhale to steady herself. Looking over at the bed, she saw what she had assumed to be the stranger's sleeping form. She didn't stare too long as if her eyes might wake him. Instead, she crawled across the floor, doing her best to feel for the creaks in the wood just as she had done in the tavern. She was practically soundless, hopping back down from where they had climbed through earlier.
When her feet finally hit the ground again, they smarted in protest of every step she made. How were they so sore over simple cobblestone? Sure, the carpet in his loft was quite plush, but this was nothing she wasn't used to. The farther she walked from his nook in the warehouse, the heavier her soul felt, as if it were spilling out of her and she were dragging it along.
She scoffed in frustration at the feeling, shaking her head feverishly at herself. [color=bd33a4]You've already done more than enough, you've overstayed your welcome. Just continue, this line can't be for you.[/color] She chanted similar sentiments in her head over and over, trying to keep it clear of that doubt doing its best to weigh down her feet.
By the time she finally came to a stop, her feet felt like cinderblocks. She was perplexed but more frustrated at this point, kicking at the cobblestone as if it were to blame. She turned back towards his nook, seeing her breath join the fog of her aura as a gentle rain began to thicken the air and cool its temperature. When the first drops hit Euphrasia's shoulders, they were ice cold, immediately chilling her to the bone as the trickle became more persistent. Still, Euphrasia stayed out stubbornly, yanking different clusters of herbs right from the ground to keep herself from throwing loud curses every which way. She knew she had to go back up there. Whatever was in store for her, the fates were making it nearly painful to resist.
Though she fought stubbornly, the rain won, and Euphrasia retreated back to the gentle warmth of the stranger's loft. It felt significantly more comfortable than the first time, and she ignored the glamour of the fate's delight in her giving into the desires of the universe. Euphrasia was scared to draw any more attention to this man and irritate him further than she had already managed, but the fates refused to let her abscond, trapping her in his loft like a wet rat in a bucket.
As she climbed back up slowly, taking a look back over at the lump she had assumed to be the stranger, it didn't look like it had moved. She breathed a quiet sigh and hoisted herself back up, though staying off of his carpets as she was thoroughly drenched. The handful of lovage she had ripped from the earth seemed to especially thrive in her grip despite their roots dangling exposed in the air. The leaves would be deliciously edible when raw, and she'd be able to coach him on how to cook the root into a stew if he had access to fire. A little adage to the meager amount he had in that basket, at least. She wished she would've been looking for more before the rain started.
That is, if he was interested. Something in her belly told Euphrasia that she was no more than a burden to him at this moment. It was a sickly mixture of feelings, the pull of the fates and the gurgling doubt mixing around in her stomach.
She sat there at the edge of the entrance, cold water dripping from her hair. Shivering began to take over her body, but she didn't dare reach for anything of his to dry her. This would just have to be something she dealt with for the time being, at least until he woke up. Then, she could change his bandage and convince herself that she had to go after that.
She didn't look at him, but imagined what she had remembered of his face. He was all shadows and angles, and there was something rather alluring about the chilling aura that surrounded him like a mist. She remembered the inky blackness of his iris and how there seemed to be flecks of gold foil floating freely around, sharp like blades that could cut her open with a simple glare. The other one was damaged, but still somehow seemed like it had a purpose of some sort, she wasn't sure. It didn't look deteriorated like a common useless blind eye, shrunken back into the socket like a dried sponge. This one still shone fresh, the shape still the same as the other, just scarred over.
The pondering of his heritage tumbled into her thoughts. He smelled like death, but not in the rotting way, in the inevitable way. The way the fall turns into the bitter bite of winter, the way the day slowly fades into purples and blues of the night. He smelled like the slowing down of time, the chilling of air. He smelled like a ghost, the ichor adding a tinge of sweetness like, sugar on top of ice.
When there came sounds from the shifting mound in his threadbare bed, Euphrasia turned to look just in time for his tired eyes to meet hers. She looked away quickly.
"Good morning…It's raining…I brought you something extra for your rations." she whispered and gently laid the lovage into his basket, careful not to drip herself onto his carpet as she returned to the entrance, body still quivering from the mixture of his chill and the chill outside. She wanted to speak more, to tell him she planned on leaving soon, but she didn't think he'd care much, so she kept it to herself instead, looking down and out into the rainy morning.
Two demigods were bound to gain the attention of something else around them, and she didn't exactly have any offensive powers, so it was up to her physical prowess to defend herself. Being on her own since twelve, it took a long while for her to cover much ground at first. She was young and naïve, suddenly and completely alone when she was used to being practically leashed by her father. She was caught stealing multiple times before she started really learning.
The energy the two gave off together would be far more potent than if they were on their own. She assumed him to be aware of that, too, so she was grateful evermore of his offer.
Reluctantly, Euphrasia ascended the wall, following him up through the hole in the attic. Her hands and feet hit old carpet, soft from years of weathering. It felt much nicer than the cobblestones they had just been sprinting on. She did her best to not make a show of looking around, not wanting to draw attention to herself while still gauging her surroundings. It was clear that he had been taking care of this place, fixing it up as best he could. A ghost of a smile graced her lips— good. It was much better than the lifestyle she had chosen. She tried her best to romanticize it, saying it made her feel like a nymph. No matter how she painted it, though, she still slept outside, hidden up in a tree.
She watched as he collapsed onto his bed, being as quiet as possible in order to let him get his rest. She stayed bundled up in the corner, her legs up against her chest with her arms wrapped around them. Though it appeared quite uncomfortable, Euphrasia still managed to doze off in this position.
It must have been at least a few hours when she woke up again with a start, forgetting where she was for a moment as her disoriented mind scrambled for clues. Finally, her brain fully woke up and reminded her of what had happened. Her shoulders relaxed and she let out a soft, slow exhale to steady herself. Looking over at the bed, she saw what she had assumed to be the stranger's sleeping form. She didn't stare too long as if her eyes might wake him. Instead, she crawled across the floor, doing her best to feel for the creaks in the wood just as she had done in the tavern. She was practically soundless, hopping back down from where they had climbed through earlier.
When her feet finally hit the ground again, they smarted in protest of every step she made. How were they so sore over simple cobblestone? Sure, the carpet in his loft was quite plush, but this was nothing she wasn't used to. The farther she walked from his nook in the warehouse, the heavier her soul felt, as if it were spilling out of her and she were dragging it along.
She scoffed in frustration at the feeling, shaking her head feverishly at herself. [color=bd33a4]You've already done more than enough, you've overstayed your welcome. Just continue, this line can't be for you.[/color] She chanted similar sentiments in her head over and over, trying to keep it clear of that doubt doing its best to weigh down her feet.
By the time she finally came to a stop, her feet felt like cinderblocks. She was perplexed but more frustrated at this point, kicking at the cobblestone as if it were to blame. She turned back towards his nook, seeing her breath join the fog of her aura as a gentle rain began to thicken the air and cool its temperature. When the first drops hit Euphrasia's shoulders, they were ice cold, immediately chilling her to the bone as the trickle became more persistent. Still, Euphrasia stayed out stubbornly, yanking different clusters of herbs right from the ground to keep herself from throwing loud curses every which way. She knew she had to go back up there. Whatever was in store for her, the fates were making it nearly painful to resist.
Though she fought stubbornly, the rain won, and Euphrasia retreated back to the gentle warmth of the stranger's loft. It felt significantly more comfortable than the first time, and she ignored the glamour of the fate's delight in her giving into the desires of the universe. Euphrasia was scared to draw any more attention to this man and irritate him further than she had already managed, but the fates refused to let her abscond, trapping her in his loft like a wet rat in a bucket.
As she climbed back up slowly, taking a look back over at the lump she had assumed to be the stranger, it didn't look like it had moved. She breathed a quiet sigh and hoisted herself back up, though staying off of his carpets as she was thoroughly drenched. The handful of lovage she had ripped from the earth seemed to especially thrive in her grip despite their roots dangling exposed in the air. The leaves would be deliciously edible when raw, and she'd be able to coach him on how to cook the root into a stew if he had access to fire. A little adage to the meager amount he had in that basket, at least. She wished she would've been looking for more before the rain started.
That is, if he was interested. Something in her belly told Euphrasia that she was no more than a burden to him at this moment. It was a sickly mixture of feelings, the pull of the fates and the gurgling doubt mixing around in her stomach.
She sat there at the edge of the entrance, cold water dripping from her hair. Shivering began to take over her body, but she didn't dare reach for anything of his to dry her. This would just have to be something she dealt with for the time being, at least until he woke up. Then, she could change his bandage and convince herself that she had to go after that.
She didn't look at him, but imagined what she had remembered of his face. He was all shadows and angles, and there was something rather alluring about the chilling aura that surrounded him like a mist. She remembered the inky blackness of his iris and how there seemed to be flecks of gold foil floating freely around, sharp like blades that could cut her open with a simple glare. The other one was damaged, but still somehow seemed like it had a purpose of some sort, she wasn't sure. It didn't look deteriorated like a common useless blind eye, shrunken back into the socket like a dried sponge. This one still shone fresh, the shape still the same as the other, just scarred over.
The pondering of his heritage tumbled into her thoughts. He smelled like death, but not in the rotting way, in the inevitable way. The way the fall turns into the bitter bite of winter, the way the day slowly fades into purples and blues of the night. He smelled like the slowing down of time, the chilling of air. He smelled like a ghost, the ichor adding a tinge of sweetness like, sugar on top of ice.
When there came sounds from the shifting mound in his threadbare bed, Euphrasia turned to look just in time for his tired eyes to meet hers. She looked away quickly.
"Good morning…It's raining…I brought you something extra for your rations." she whispered and gently laid the lovage into his basket, careful not to drip herself onto his carpet as she returned to the entrance, body still quivering from the mixture of his chill and the chill outside. She wanted to speak more, to tell him she planned on leaving soon, but she didn't think he'd care much, so she kept it to herself instead, looking down and out into the rainy morning.
That's about it! Feel free to message me if you're interested!
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