I'm coming off a hiatus, and I'm looking for partners.
Hi there,
I'm Nef and I've been writing for around ten years, probably more, on multiple sites. I typically write MxM (As the bottom) but I also do MxF(As the female). My stories are typically 30% sex and 70% plot, I enjoy a good story but sexual tension and romance is always fun to have mixed in there. I have high standards for a partner because I hold myself to high standards when writing. I write because I really love it, but I also love reading so I do expect a response that has some substance to it. I'll give you detail and push the story forward but I also try to write things my partner might not be expecting, I find those aspects fun to make and to read. I write all types of genres -supernatural, fantasy, slice of life, post-apocalyptic, romance, ect...- I enjoy writing a wide range of things. I also enjoy cyberpunk, so much that I created and entire world that is themed cyberpunk. I'll link it HERE so you can go check it out if you're into that type of setting. I've written some really good stories there and I'm always down for more. I swear I'm not as scary as I seem in this search, I'm just looking for serious/compatible partners. If after you read my entire search and it sounds like your jam than shoot me a message, I'm trying to keep this thread tidy but also I probably won't see it if you respond here. It'll also tell me you didn't bother reading my entire intro if you do. Thanks for those who did read it, hopefully I hear from you soon.
I am currently coming off a hiatus, so I'm easing back into things.
Me as a writer
What I expect from you and you can also expect from me
THIS is the cyberpunk world that post is based in. Also, this story is still up for grabs. If you want more info message me!
If you have plot ideas or cravings feel free to send them to me, I love hearing people's ideas and collaborating. I have some plot ideas too so let me know if you're interested in writing with me. I don't do fandoms, I prefer original ideas. Please message me, don't reply here. I won't bite so go for it, I'm looking forward to hearing from you. Thanks!
Hi there,
I'm Nef and I've been writing for around ten years, probably more, on multiple sites. I typically write MxM (As the bottom) but I also do MxF(As the female). My stories are typically 30% sex and 70% plot, I enjoy a good story but sexual tension and romance is always fun to have mixed in there. I have high standards for a partner because I hold myself to high standards when writing. I write because I really love it, but I also love reading so I do expect a response that has some substance to it. I'll give you detail and push the story forward but I also try to write things my partner might not be expecting, I find those aspects fun to make and to read. I write all types of genres -supernatural, fantasy, slice of life, post-apocalyptic, romance, ect...- I enjoy writing a wide range of things. I also enjoy cyberpunk, so much that I created and entire world that is themed cyberpunk. I'll link it HERE so you can go check it out if you're into that type of setting. I've written some really good stories there and I'm always down for more. I swear I'm not as scary as I seem in this search, I'm just looking for serious/compatible partners. If after you read my entire search and it sounds like your jam than shoot me a message, I'm trying to keep this thread tidy but also I probably won't see it if you respond here. It'll also tell me you didn't bother reading my entire intro if you do. Thanks for those who did read it, hopefully I hear from you soon.
I am currently coming off a hiatus, so I'm easing back into things.
Me as a writer
- I write in third-person, past tense, and in multiple paragraphs
- 2+ replies a week. (I won't promise more, as my life can get quite busy at times (probably more tho lol)).
- I prefer real life photos over animated or artwork for characters
- I like some OOC chat to plot and discuss the story
- Long post lengths, anywhere from 2-10+ depending on the story and the scene
- Heavy details, I'm a real sucker for details. Describe to me in detail how something has happened and you've got me hooked.
- I'm fine starting us off if you don't disappear on me, I put a ton of effort into my intros and their size can be intimidating(Or so I've been told) so just talk to me.
What I expect from you and you can also expect from me
- Fallow the group rules
- Two paragraphs minimum. I lose interest very quickly if I'm not given enough to go off of and if it starts to feel like I'm the only one adding to the story I won't be able to continue.
- Third person/past tense
- Don't control my character unless we've spoken about it first
- Literate and puts effort/pride into your writing. Sometimes I'll write a post over an hour, I'll read it and re-read and edit it over and over to make sure it's good before sending it, so getting a sloppy/rushed return is always disappointing. As for literacy, I make mistakes too, but just try to keep it to a minimum and know basic grammar.
- Is okay with 18+ themes such as sex, drugs, alcohol, violence, blood, swearing, ect...
The badlands covered eighty percent of the planet, and over half of that was a sea of orange sand, seemingly endless to those unfamiliar with it. For some who spent their lives out there, they knew how rich this desert could be. Ruins of civilizations that could have been, ships that fell from the sky in clouds of smoke, hidden caves among the rockier landscapes, and roaming creatures that most would never have the opportunity to see in their lives... there was plenty to see out there other than sand, but it's beauty could only be admired by those who also accepted it's dangers, because those foolish enough to enter the badlands without an idea of just how hostile it was were as good as dead. Sometimes even experienced survivors would also die without warning, one misstep, one missed bullet, it only took a second for situations to take a hard turn and become deadly, if you wern't prepared for it you'd end up dead, simple as that. Another enchantingly deadly thing in the badlands was it's weather, the usually hot weather could always take a turn without warning. The seemingly unyielding sun would beat down on you without remorse, then at the flip of a switch clouds would appear. Clouds aren't your saviour though, clouds are worse than the sun because they signal two kinds of weather events that could kill you, a lightning storm or rain. Now rain doesn't sound so bad when you just say 'rain', but this rain is cold, so cold that when it hits your skin it feels like glass cutting into your skin. So cold that if you don't get to cover quickly your muscles will begin to lock up and eventually you won't be able to move. You'd just lay there helplessly as you freeze to death. The lightning storms are almost as bad, at least theres a chance you won't be hit, but that's a slim chance. They are usually more violent up in the sky, causing the majority of airship crashes, but down on the ground you'll see some violent flashes too, and if you're hit you're done for. Yeah, the badlands aren't the most welcoming of places, you could easily die from lack of oxygen or water, it's a wonder how anyone lives out there, but people do. Some people don't simply survive out there, some thrive.
A loud rumbling could be heard over the sandy hills, in the distance a black shape could be seen flying across the landscape, leaving a cloud of sand in it's trail. It was a modified vehicle similar to a motorcycle but the wheels were over two feet wide with deep tread, deep enough to dig into the sand and launch the huge machine forward. The back wheel was actually two wheels combined to give it some more grip and power. The entire thing had been spray painted matte black, making it all appear like one machine, but in reality it had been made up of parts from over fifty different ship wrecks and abandoned vehicles. It was a huge machine, it could likely sit three people on it but at the moment there was only one. Tucked behind them was a saddle bag, strapped down to the seat with cords. The person that drove the mean sounding bike was dressed in black denim pants and a loose army green t-shirt that had black oil and dirt stains on it. Covering that was a black leather jacket, protecting her arms from the harsh sand that would hit her body while traveling at such a great speed. The boots she wore matched her jacket, they were black leather army boots she'd found a while back. Her pants were tucked into them, an attempt to keep the sand out of both her pants and her boots. Sand always ended up everywhere though, there was no stopping that. Her hair was pulled up and tied, tucked into the helmet she wore. The helmet was black and covered her face completely, even the visor was tinted so that no one could see into it. Under the helmet she had her oxygen mask, it was an advanced kind that was developed by the rebels, it produced it's own oxygen and didn't need re-filling, which was a blessing on long journeys. It'd cost her three power cores, a high price to pay for the security, but oxygen security out there was priceless. The mask was simple, she just held it against her lips and pressed a button and the metal of the mask extended, covering her nose and mouth while reaching up her jaw, covering everything from her cheekbones down. It was thin too, so it fit under her helmet, definitely worth the weeks it took to find those cores.
She'd been driving for hours, and when her destination finally came into view she was relieved. She traveled all across the badlands, never staying in one place for more than a night, but not having shelter was a dangerous thing. Sure, she had a camp set up in her bag but that couldn't compare to an actual roof and metal walls, it was way safer to sleep indoors, so over the years she'd scouted out different abandoned buildings and towns where she could stop. This one was one of her favourites though, it retained some oxygen from when it was in use, so when she slept there she could take her mask off, it was a relief after having to wear it for days on end, only removing it in short bursts so she could eat or drink, but in those times she would have to hold her breath and be quick, so being able to relax and breath without it was a rare blessing for her. This location was a single building, an outpost that almost was. It was a part of scavenger team's attempt to expand out into the badlands, or so she read. They didn't clean up all their plans before abandoning it, so the first time she'd found the place she read them. She had an idea of what scavenger teams were, she'd seen them from a distance before, but she never got close. She'd been told that people from the cities, especially government workers, were ignorant and because of that ignorance they were dangerous. But basically, this building was going to be an outpost where they could stay on long journeys, but apparently they wern't prepared for Raiders. It didn't say in the papers anything about Raiders, but she could tell by the old red symbols smeared on the walls that Raider's had been there, and to make their marks they would have needed blood. The inhabitants likely died, but she never had a run in with Raider's there before, she always kept an ear out for them though.
The building wasn't huge but it was big enough to house multiple rooms for sleeping, eating, and working, as well as a control room. All the power was long gone but the doors could be closed, so every time she left she pulled them closed so air wouldn't escape. Thanks to the Raider markings no one else seemed interested in getting close to it, but she knew well enough that Raiders didn't usually strike the same place twice, they took what they wanted from it so why bother coming back? As she drew closer she slowed her bike, only stopping once she was near the entrance. She placed her feet on the ground as she eyed the building, feeling the powerful engine vibrating against her thighs as she stared at the entrance... the opened entrance. She knew she'd closed it, and what idiot waltzed right in to a raider marked building? Well... she was also an idiot if those were the parameters for what made an idiot... but she was annoyed. She'd been looking forward to a decent sleep but now she had this to deal with. She was considering leaving, but there were no signs of vehicles, so it likely wasn't raiders and if it was then they must have already left. She thought for a moment more before sighing, switching the bike off as she stood. The wheels were thick enough that she didn't need a kickstand, the bike just stayed up on it's own. She swung her leg over the bike to stand next to it. A holster was strapped to her right thigh, holding a simple handgun. A second was hanging off her hip on the opposite side to the other weapon. A third gun was on her back, a long barrelled rifle she used for hunting from a distance, and for now she slid it off, removing it from her back and leaning it against her bike. It'd only get in the way if she got into a fight inside. She also had a knife, almost as long as her forearm and thick enough to do some serious damage. She was armed for a fight and a hunt, being prepared was a huge part of surviving out there.
She considered her approach for a moment, if someone was inside they had the advantage, they knew she was there. Her entrance hadn't been quiet and she was sure they could figure out where she would be coming from. She decided to leave her helmet on, it could act as armour if she did have to fight. Her left hand moved to her hip, unhooking the gun she had strapped there. It was easy for her to flick off the safety, she'd done it a million times, and as she did she moved forward, stepping up into the outpost. Inside was dimly lit, small piles of sand had blown in to make homes in some of the corners. The main entrance stepped into the control/observation room, a wide open room with large windows along one side. Unlit control panels sat unused for years, accumulating sand and dust. There was a doorway near the back that led to a dining/communal area and after that were a handful of bedrooms. Her eyes scanned the first room, not seeing anyone there but noticing some dust had been disturbed on one of the panels, leaving a mark as if someone had brushed against it. She adjusted the gun so she could grip it with both hands, lifting it in front of herself as she moved deeper inside. She had it aimed, ready to fire if a threat made itself known. If someone was there... then where was their vehicle? Did they walk? That was like having a death wish... Maybe it was a creature? Maybe it shoved the door open and wandered inside? She wasn't sure, but she was prepared. She stepped into the next room slowly, trying to stay quiet as she took in the room, again not seeing anyone, but noticing signs that someone had been there.
Her eyes shifted towards the last place they could be, a hallway filled with four doors, each leading to a bedroom. Slowly, she moved towards the hallway, feeling sweat beginning to pearl on the back of her neck. The heat was intense inside, especially with the helmet on. She was planning on carefully approaching each bedroom and clearing it but a noise caught her attention. It was soft, barely audible through her helmet, it sounded like the scuff of a boot or foot against the floor, made louder by the sand that had drifted inside. "Come out" Her voice was sharp against the quiet that had filled the space only moments ago. Another thing about the mask she wore, it distorted her voice, making it sound almost robotic. Sometimes it was helpful to not automatically be recognized as a female, some people took her less seriously that way, but she was quick to straighten out that attitude. She knew there was oxygen in there, but just incase she needed to make a quick escape she kept it on. "It'll save us both a lot of trouble if you just come out" She spoke once more, knowing something else was definitely there, she almost hoped it was a creature and not a person though, at least with a creature she could just kill it, but people were a different story. She didn't mindlessly kill people like some other survivors out there, it was only if she was being threatened or if the other person was a Raider. Right then though, she didn't know what she was dealing with, and the tension in her shoulders was almost painful.
A loud rumbling could be heard over the sandy hills, in the distance a black shape could be seen flying across the landscape, leaving a cloud of sand in it's trail. It was a modified vehicle similar to a motorcycle but the wheels were over two feet wide with deep tread, deep enough to dig into the sand and launch the huge machine forward. The back wheel was actually two wheels combined to give it some more grip and power. The entire thing had been spray painted matte black, making it all appear like one machine, but in reality it had been made up of parts from over fifty different ship wrecks and abandoned vehicles. It was a huge machine, it could likely sit three people on it but at the moment there was only one. Tucked behind them was a saddle bag, strapped down to the seat with cords. The person that drove the mean sounding bike was dressed in black denim pants and a loose army green t-shirt that had black oil and dirt stains on it. Covering that was a black leather jacket, protecting her arms from the harsh sand that would hit her body while traveling at such a great speed. The boots she wore matched her jacket, they were black leather army boots she'd found a while back. Her pants were tucked into them, an attempt to keep the sand out of both her pants and her boots. Sand always ended up everywhere though, there was no stopping that. Her hair was pulled up and tied, tucked into the helmet she wore. The helmet was black and covered her face completely, even the visor was tinted so that no one could see into it. Under the helmet she had her oxygen mask, it was an advanced kind that was developed by the rebels, it produced it's own oxygen and didn't need re-filling, which was a blessing on long journeys. It'd cost her three power cores, a high price to pay for the security, but oxygen security out there was priceless. The mask was simple, she just held it against her lips and pressed a button and the metal of the mask extended, covering her nose and mouth while reaching up her jaw, covering everything from her cheekbones down. It was thin too, so it fit under her helmet, definitely worth the weeks it took to find those cores.
She'd been driving for hours, and when her destination finally came into view she was relieved. She traveled all across the badlands, never staying in one place for more than a night, but not having shelter was a dangerous thing. Sure, she had a camp set up in her bag but that couldn't compare to an actual roof and metal walls, it was way safer to sleep indoors, so over the years she'd scouted out different abandoned buildings and towns where she could stop. This one was one of her favourites though, it retained some oxygen from when it was in use, so when she slept there she could take her mask off, it was a relief after having to wear it for days on end, only removing it in short bursts so she could eat or drink, but in those times she would have to hold her breath and be quick, so being able to relax and breath without it was a rare blessing for her. This location was a single building, an outpost that almost was. It was a part of scavenger team's attempt to expand out into the badlands, or so she read. They didn't clean up all their plans before abandoning it, so the first time she'd found the place she read them. She had an idea of what scavenger teams were, she'd seen them from a distance before, but she never got close. She'd been told that people from the cities, especially government workers, were ignorant and because of that ignorance they were dangerous. But basically, this building was going to be an outpost where they could stay on long journeys, but apparently they wern't prepared for Raiders. It didn't say in the papers anything about Raiders, but she could tell by the old red symbols smeared on the walls that Raider's had been there, and to make their marks they would have needed blood. The inhabitants likely died, but she never had a run in with Raider's there before, she always kept an ear out for them though.
The building wasn't huge but it was big enough to house multiple rooms for sleeping, eating, and working, as well as a control room. All the power was long gone but the doors could be closed, so every time she left she pulled them closed so air wouldn't escape. Thanks to the Raider markings no one else seemed interested in getting close to it, but she knew well enough that Raiders didn't usually strike the same place twice, they took what they wanted from it so why bother coming back? As she drew closer she slowed her bike, only stopping once she was near the entrance. She placed her feet on the ground as she eyed the building, feeling the powerful engine vibrating against her thighs as she stared at the entrance... the opened entrance. She knew she'd closed it, and what idiot waltzed right in to a raider marked building? Well... she was also an idiot if those were the parameters for what made an idiot... but she was annoyed. She'd been looking forward to a decent sleep but now she had this to deal with. She was considering leaving, but there were no signs of vehicles, so it likely wasn't raiders and if it was then they must have already left. She thought for a moment more before sighing, switching the bike off as she stood. The wheels were thick enough that she didn't need a kickstand, the bike just stayed up on it's own. She swung her leg over the bike to stand next to it. A holster was strapped to her right thigh, holding a simple handgun. A second was hanging off her hip on the opposite side to the other weapon. A third gun was on her back, a long barrelled rifle she used for hunting from a distance, and for now she slid it off, removing it from her back and leaning it against her bike. It'd only get in the way if she got into a fight inside. She also had a knife, almost as long as her forearm and thick enough to do some serious damage. She was armed for a fight and a hunt, being prepared was a huge part of surviving out there.
She considered her approach for a moment, if someone was inside they had the advantage, they knew she was there. Her entrance hadn't been quiet and she was sure they could figure out where she would be coming from. She decided to leave her helmet on, it could act as armour if she did have to fight. Her left hand moved to her hip, unhooking the gun she had strapped there. It was easy for her to flick off the safety, she'd done it a million times, and as she did she moved forward, stepping up into the outpost. Inside was dimly lit, small piles of sand had blown in to make homes in some of the corners. The main entrance stepped into the control/observation room, a wide open room with large windows along one side. Unlit control panels sat unused for years, accumulating sand and dust. There was a doorway near the back that led to a dining/communal area and after that were a handful of bedrooms. Her eyes scanned the first room, not seeing anyone there but noticing some dust had been disturbed on one of the panels, leaving a mark as if someone had brushed against it. She adjusted the gun so she could grip it with both hands, lifting it in front of herself as she moved deeper inside. She had it aimed, ready to fire if a threat made itself known. If someone was there... then where was their vehicle? Did they walk? That was like having a death wish... Maybe it was a creature? Maybe it shoved the door open and wandered inside? She wasn't sure, but she was prepared. She stepped into the next room slowly, trying to stay quiet as she took in the room, again not seeing anyone, but noticing signs that someone had been there.
Her eyes shifted towards the last place they could be, a hallway filled with four doors, each leading to a bedroom. Slowly, she moved towards the hallway, feeling sweat beginning to pearl on the back of her neck. The heat was intense inside, especially with the helmet on. She was planning on carefully approaching each bedroom and clearing it but a noise caught her attention. It was soft, barely audible through her helmet, it sounded like the scuff of a boot or foot against the floor, made louder by the sand that had drifted inside. "Come out" Her voice was sharp against the quiet that had filled the space only moments ago. Another thing about the mask she wore, it distorted her voice, making it sound almost robotic. Sometimes it was helpful to not automatically be recognized as a female, some people took her less seriously that way, but she was quick to straighten out that attitude. She knew there was oxygen in there, but just incase she needed to make a quick escape she kept it on. "It'll save us both a lot of trouble if you just come out" She spoke once more, knowing something else was definitely there, she almost hoped it was a creature and not a person though, at least with a creature she could just kill it, but people were a different story. She didn't mindlessly kill people like some other survivors out there, it was only if she was being threatened or if the other person was a Raider. Right then though, she didn't know what she was dealing with, and the tension in her shoulders was almost painful.
THIS is the cyberpunk world that post is based in. Also, this story is still up for grabs. If you want more info message me!
If you have plot ideas or cravings feel free to send them to me, I love hearing people's ideas and collaborating. I have some plot ideas too so let me know if you're interested in writing with me. I don't do fandoms, I prefer original ideas. Please message me, don't reply here. I won't bite so go for it, I'm looking forward to hearing from you. Thanks!
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