ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ
Hello everyone, I'm Patch! I've been rping for about 15 years and writing even longer, however, it's been a while since I've been on a forum so I apologize if I'm a little rusty to start off with. I am searching for long-term writing partners who enjoy building plots together and cherish rich relationships between characters. I am a full-time student though, so I ask for a little bit of patience.
ʀᴇᴏ̨ᴜɪʀᴇᴍᴇɴᴛs
I don't necessarily like having requirements but I know they're necessary for good roleplay, so here they are:
ɢᴇɴʀᴇs
Some of the genres that interest me include:
ғᴀɴᴅᴏᴍs
Of course, I roleplay non-original things too such as:
ᴘʟᴏᴛs ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢs
Honestly, right now, I don't have any plots I really need to play out. This means I want to create one with you! Or, if you have a plot in mind that really speaks to you, I'm more than happy to hear you out if it fits with my preferences and requirements!
Pairings I'd potentially like to try out (But again, I'm open to more than just these):
ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ sᴀᴍᴘʟᴇ
Below is a sample of my writing from a fanfiction. I don't have access to any of my old rps at the moment so I hope this will suffice!
ɪɴ ᴄᴏɴᴄʟᴜsɪᴏɴ
Thank you for taking the time to read and look this over! If you're interested, message me!
Hello everyone, I'm Patch! I've been rping for about 15 years and writing even longer, however, it's been a while since I've been on a forum so I apologize if I'm a little rusty to start off with. I am searching for long-term writing partners who enjoy building plots together and cherish rich relationships between characters. I am a full-time student though, so I ask for a little bit of patience.
ʀᴇᴏ̨ᴜɪʀᴇᴍᴇɴᴛs
I don't necessarily like having requirements but I know they're necessary for good roleplay, so here they are:
- No Godmodding
- Please don't bring character drama to real relationships!
- Communication is key. Please don't feel afraid to reach out to me if something doesn't feel right, something doesn't work, or even if you need to close our thread. Being left hanging is the worst and I'll make sure to extend that courtesy to you as well.
- Paragraphs only! I want to be immersed in our world, and that doesn't happen when it's only a few sentences back and forth at a time. The minimum amount of writing I'd like in a reply is a beefy paragraph, but I'd prefer at least two. I want to know your character's thoughts and emotions!
- For now, I'd rather play only females (F/M, F/F, F/Non-binary) but if we discuss things first, I'd be open to doing M/M
- I prefer to have a plot other than pure sex for both your sake and mine. I like real, deep stories and I've found that these are the only kind of rps that keep me interested.
- Adding to the previous point, I don't want to write sex upon their first meeting. I love to grow a relationship before intimacy. I know that's not everyone's preference, and I respect that, but I really love story and character investment.
ɢᴇɴʀᴇs
Some of the genres that interest me include:
- Fantasy both High and Low
- Urban fantasy
- Supernatural
- Romance (Preferably in almost all stories)
- Mythology
- Witches, familiars, and covens specifically
- Thrillers
- Pirates
- Historical fiction
- Fairytales
- DND
- Spies and Detectives
- Gang Activity, Mob Bosses
ғᴀɴᴅᴏᴍs
Of course, I roleplay non-original things too such as:
- Harry Potter (18+)
- Percy Jackson (18+)
- Critical Role
- BTS
ᴘʟᴏᴛs ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢs
Honestly, right now, I don't have any plots I really need to play out. This means I want to create one with you! Or, if you have a plot in mind that really speaks to you, I'm more than happy to hear you out if it fits with my preferences and requirements!
Pairings I'd potentially like to try out (But again, I'm open to more than just these):
- Childhood friends
- Witch/Familiar
- 2 supernatural creatures
- Supernatural creature/Human
- God/God
- God/Human
- Body Guard/The one that needs protecting
- Gang members
- Pirate/Mermaid
- Pirate/Pirate
- Pirate/Captive
- Royal/Non-royal
- Famous Person/non-famous person
- Popular Person/non-popular person
- 2 Demigods (Percy Jackson)
- 2 Witches (HP)
- Professor/18+ Student
ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ sᴀᴍᴘʟᴇ
Below is a sample of my writing from a fanfiction. I don't have access to any of my old rps at the moment so I hope this will suffice!
His shoes were missing. That was the first thing he noticed when the shadow that clouded his vision retreated into itself, leaving the void of memories in its wake. The skin in question was muddy, torn, and bloodied as if he had climbed a mountain barefoot instead of the few blocks away from what he was calling home. On a good day, when his body didn't protest, and his mind decided to cut him the smallest of breaks, getting to this familiar bridge would have taken him five minutes at the very most.
Somehow he knew that it had taken him much longer this time.
After a thin, weary breath, he began to take stock. His jeans were just as wet and muddy as his feet were, especially at his knees where the ripped fabric revealed the scratched and bruised skin underneath. Some of the injuries were new, it seemed, but this week hadn't been kind so it was hard to tell where the new damage began and the old ended. Next, he slipped his hands into his pockets. Just his luck, his keys had disappeared. Or perhaps he hadn't brought them in the first place; he didn't even remember leaving his room.
When he switched his hands to the back of the jeans, his fingers locked around something cold and metal. He hauled it out, surprised by its heft, and brought it around to examine it. A box cutter? Surely that wasn't something he owned. So where had it come from? When the answer to his question didn't come, he let the tool fall from his fingers and hit the wood path with a thunk that rattled vacancy in his brain.
He leaned back against the pole behind him, tipping his chin towards the night sky and wishing he could see the stars.
The city was miles away, but its light was strong enough to pollute even further than his town was. It was a constant reminder. A reminder of things he couldn't quite remember as he should. A reminder that another headache would be on its way sooner than he would like.
Those fucking headaches. Like lightning in his brain, stealing some memories and bringing the worst of others to him. They were coming quicker these days and with no warning, as if someone in the shadows was waiting patiently for the right moment to pull the trigger of the gun they had pressed against his temple. All it took was the smell of antiseptic, an unusual leaky tap in his apartment, or the sight of something like…a box cutter.
The pain would slam against his right eye, debilitating, and confusing until the memories of the past took over and he winded up somewhere other than where he started. It happened again, and again, and again. He was thrown into the body of his younger self, enduring those moments he was confident he had dug so far into the depths of his brain that they surely couldn't eat him alive again. These slips in time had cost him his job, and nearly no one was hiring teenagers anymore. It was making him sickly and weak. He could barely eat. This, whatever it was, was killing him.
But he didn't want to die, especially after all he had done to free himself.
After he escaped the clutches of those who had held him all his childhood, he had done everything he could to forget what had happened to him. Those thoughts and memories of the pain and aching loneliness he had gone through were not helpful. That was not to say that he could just let them all go immediately. As someone who grew up in a lab, he had to learn what it really meant to be human, especially one with nowhere to go. However, once he had learned how to survive, how to move forward in life without the baggage of someone broken, somehow he allowed many of those memories to slip through the cracks.
So why were they bubbling back to the surface now?
He brought his sleeve up to wipe at his runny nose and tear-sore eyes, thankful there was no one around to see him at this time of night. With no phone, it was hard to guess how long he had been incoherent, but with no hint of the morning sun on the horizon he figured it had no more than a few hours. He should be getting back home, making sure his apartment hadn't been broken into yet, or retracing his scrambling steps to where he might have lost his damn shoes. Buying a new pair would be impossible now that he was suddenly out of work.
Instead, he closed his eyes again and relaxed back against the wood, only to have to remind himself to unclench the muscles in his shoulders and bring them down from his ears. He knew that he was okay there; the park was in a safe area, the type of place families let their kids run unbound, the type of place he usually wasn't welcome in. Tonight, there was no one, even with his eyes closed, he could feel it.
If he set all of his tangled thoughts aside, the world around him began to melt away. The roaring, rushing of the deep water under the bridge became a hum, the chilly fall air feeling a bit like a blanket. Even though no one was there, he felt hidden by the darkness enough that maybe he would have been overlooked if someone were to stumble upon his park so late at night. For the first time in months, he allowed himself to imagine that he was the only one in this world and nothing could touch him.
Somehow he knew that it had taken him much longer this time.
After a thin, weary breath, he began to take stock. His jeans were just as wet and muddy as his feet were, especially at his knees where the ripped fabric revealed the scratched and bruised skin underneath. Some of the injuries were new, it seemed, but this week hadn't been kind so it was hard to tell where the new damage began and the old ended. Next, he slipped his hands into his pockets. Just his luck, his keys had disappeared. Or perhaps he hadn't brought them in the first place; he didn't even remember leaving his room.
When he switched his hands to the back of the jeans, his fingers locked around something cold and metal. He hauled it out, surprised by its heft, and brought it around to examine it. A box cutter? Surely that wasn't something he owned. So where had it come from? When the answer to his question didn't come, he let the tool fall from his fingers and hit the wood path with a thunk that rattled vacancy in his brain.
He leaned back against the pole behind him, tipping his chin towards the night sky and wishing he could see the stars.
The city was miles away, but its light was strong enough to pollute even further than his town was. It was a constant reminder. A reminder of things he couldn't quite remember as he should. A reminder that another headache would be on its way sooner than he would like.
Those fucking headaches. Like lightning in his brain, stealing some memories and bringing the worst of others to him. They were coming quicker these days and with no warning, as if someone in the shadows was waiting patiently for the right moment to pull the trigger of the gun they had pressed against his temple. All it took was the smell of antiseptic, an unusual leaky tap in his apartment, or the sight of something like…a box cutter.
The pain would slam against his right eye, debilitating, and confusing until the memories of the past took over and he winded up somewhere other than where he started. It happened again, and again, and again. He was thrown into the body of his younger self, enduring those moments he was confident he had dug so far into the depths of his brain that they surely couldn't eat him alive again. These slips in time had cost him his job, and nearly no one was hiring teenagers anymore. It was making him sickly and weak. He could barely eat. This, whatever it was, was killing him.
But he didn't want to die, especially after all he had done to free himself.
After he escaped the clutches of those who had held him all his childhood, he had done everything he could to forget what had happened to him. Those thoughts and memories of the pain and aching loneliness he had gone through were not helpful. That was not to say that he could just let them all go immediately. As someone who grew up in a lab, he had to learn what it really meant to be human, especially one with nowhere to go. However, once he had learned how to survive, how to move forward in life without the baggage of someone broken, somehow he allowed many of those memories to slip through the cracks.
So why were they bubbling back to the surface now?
He brought his sleeve up to wipe at his runny nose and tear-sore eyes, thankful there was no one around to see him at this time of night. With no phone, it was hard to guess how long he had been incoherent, but with no hint of the morning sun on the horizon he figured it had no more than a few hours. He should be getting back home, making sure his apartment hadn't been broken into yet, or retracing his scrambling steps to where he might have lost his damn shoes. Buying a new pair would be impossible now that he was suddenly out of work.
Instead, he closed his eyes again and relaxed back against the wood, only to have to remind himself to unclench the muscles in his shoulders and bring them down from his ears. He knew that he was okay there; the park was in a safe area, the type of place families let their kids run unbound, the type of place he usually wasn't welcome in. Tonight, there was no one, even with his eyes closed, he could feel it.
If he set all of his tangled thoughts aside, the world around him began to melt away. The roaring, rushing of the deep water under the bridge became a hum, the chilly fall air feeling a bit like a blanket. Even though no one was there, he felt hidden by the darkness enough that maybe he would have been overlooked if someone were to stumble upon his park so late at night. For the first time in months, he allowed himself to imagine that he was the only one in this world and nothing could touch him.
ɪɴ ᴄᴏɴᴄʟᴜsɪᴏɴ
Thank you for taking the time to read and look this over! If you're interested, message me!
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