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- Age
- 31
The High Riser lifted a hand, grandiose like he was raising a goblet. “Bring it out!” he cried, his light, lilting voice ringing over the Dollhouse. From the highest box in the stands, he glowed with youth and masculine beauty like a pale star, his curly hair gleaming gold, his naked, chiseled chest heaving with excitement. Smooth, pure white robes pooled at his elbows, leaving his broad shoulders bare in the moonlight. His nipples were an amazing pink.
Below, one of the rusted, segmented panels that made up the side of the arena screeched, rolling up and away to reveal a battered iron container. Guards in tinny armor rushed to unlatch the doors and heave them aside, then with an arthritic groan, the container disgorged a pitch black man straight into the ground. He was naked except for a dirty scrap of yellowing fabric wrapped around his hips, but that was unsurprising. More interesting was the fact that physically, he was a perfect, licorice-flavored copy of the High Riser himself.
But none of those present seemed to care about this.
“Friends—the Great Lord of Dragons, Dragon Lord Artaaaaaaaax!” howled the High Riser. Then there was deafening applause, which somehow always began the very moment he’d finished speaking.
Behind Artax, the metal wall was grinding shut again. Old blood was caked in the crannies of the riveted metal floor, which was cool against his cheek. He was floating on a sheet metal raft in the Sea of Unconsciousness, but the High Riser’s irritating voice buzzed in his ears like a cloud of fat black flies, heralding some astounding, vicious humiliation. Artax had no choice; he rose to meet it, only…trembling like egg yolks, his heavy limbs refused command. His hind legs had suddenly become alarmingly long and he could not feel the weight of his tail, which would have tipped him directly onto his nose if not for the human arms that sprang from beneath him, catching him entirely without his input. He stared, noting that the arms were black, like him.
All of the fleshy creatures perched above him laughed as if of one unholy mind, their faces twisted, but at what, Artax did not know. The High Riser’s voice sliced through the noise; the crowd fell silent as if their throats had been cut. “Look at it, crawling in the dust with its ass in the air!” Then he, too, laughed. It was a bright, wonderful sound that ignited an unwilling cheer in even Artax’s chest.
”This bloodthirsty monster, so helpless and useless in appearance, was such a thorn in our side, and for so long. But how could that be? Clarity’s strength is unrivaled!”
Artax squinted up past the blinding glare of flybulb spotlights. Far above, the perfect symmetry of the High Riser’s face was frozen in an expression of delight—the mask of an entertainer. One pale hand swept over the crowd as the High Riser began a hypnotic sequence of fanatical gesticulating, his body pristine against the deep twilight sky. Rings glittered on his fingers, and scattered like stars throughout the crowd twinkled the sympathetic light of spellwork.
“My dear friends, it is through Clarity’s very strength that the cruel and cunning Dragon Lord Artax has been reduced to the mere mortal you see here tonight. It resembles a man, but it is not one of us! For your safety, we have not brought it here in its full glory. It would have destroyed us all with its sheer size, or its ability to call down the forces of nature in a veritable orgy of violence. A dragon is terribly impressive up close, you see, so impressive you will feel your death upon you no matter your own power, and it was only due to the bravery and skill of our warriors that we achieved victory, neutering this monster to some semblance of harmlessness. A very impressive feat! That’s right, even the Lord of Dragons is no match for Clarity’s might! Praise our Immaculate Vision, whose power pierces all darkness, for tonight marks the end of this Draconic Reign of Terror!”
The young man’s voice was straining with a sense of uncontainable, almost orgasmic passion. He threw his head back, baring his pale throat, and announced, “Justice will finally be served!”
Artax grimaced; at least that expression tracked onto human musculature. The moment the High Riser closed his shapely mouth, the crowd erupted into cheers and applause, roaring louder than a crashing storm, than a volcano belching steam and smoke. But all was silent again the moment the High Riser yowled, “Release the First Challeeeeeenge!”
Something rumbled beneath Artax. Huge banners hanging from the stands, each featuring the High Riser’s mug in various pouting, semi-seductive contortions, flapped above him. The crude metal around him trembled. Unstable on all fours, he collapsed to his knees, steeling himself on reflex for crushing pain. However, to his surprise and mild disgust, the human body was perfectly comfortable in such a subordinate position—besides a faint little twinge in the kneecaps.
One segmented metal panel rattled up across the arena. Steam, surely placed there merely for dramatic effect, billowed from that new dark maw. Artax recognized the hole as his only realistic point of escape in his current wingless state; feeling small and squishy under the Dollhouse’s cold light, he stared warily into the unknown with dark, matted hair spilling all over his face, which was completely ruining his peripheral vision.
The crowd was stomping in time to the beat of some gargantuan hollow drum. A shape rose up in the clearing mist…
–
Helloooo, writers! I just wanted to see if anyone was interested in a fun, mostly unserious action/adventure story. Perhaps with dark elements, or trope subversion, or an RP style inspired by TTRPGs where we throw whatever at the wall and see what sticks. Puzzles and challenges may be provided for characters to deal with. All of this is optional, of course, if you prefer a more collaborative writing approach where we discuss all the details. In fact, starting with discussions until we get comfortable might be best, especially because violence may be involved. Also, you are free and encouraged to add your own worldbuilding elements, and all that has been written is subject to change if you like. (I suppose this may be a GM4GM ad…)
This idea, in tone and genre, is a little out of the way for the typical roleplayer in my opinion, so I don’t expect to find a partner for it anytime soon and that is cool with me. I’ll probably just bump this occasionally, or else post some equally deviant and disturbing things (ha) in the future, letting this disintegrate unused. I do have quite a bit of range regarding slice of life elements vs action/plot elements as long as there is a main plot we can take up again after a bit, so we have options.
Anyway, I have spawned this fellow with an impressive and rather silly title, Dragon Lord Artax, as someone who has had his four clawed legs cut out from under him. You can bring whoever you like – a guard, one of the teeming masses, an overseer, a waifish pickpocket hiding in the stands, the Challenge, an attendant of the High Riser, a monster, a talking dog, something else – but I ask that they be just about as weak and powerless in the face of a massive, soul-crushing societal machine. This is not a power fantasy! It’s a cartoonishly evil dystopia! Some people may die, but I have hope that Artax and your chosen creature will survive, and I don’t plan on killing significant characters without your input.
I am someone who values proactive and straightforward communication, and I feel like many of the problems we tend to explore in roleplay can be resolved easily and quickly with such wild bravery. Some of my humor genre characters are quite blunt, which might drain the fun out of partner writing for people who love interpersonal drama and tension. However, at this moment I plan for Artax to be a “dark and broody, horrible at communicating in the silent but not violent way” archetype, and if you have particular character dynamics you want to see or NOT see, definitely discuss with me and we can work it out. Artax is not set in stone because he is a new character. My current intention with him is to see if I can write the Edgelord character in a way that doesn’t choke off his potential friends, so feel free to tell me if he is too edgy in a “this gives me nothing to work with” way.
I hope it came across clearly in this starter sample: dark, handsome, and mysterious means nothing and all will be ground to dust equally under the Vision's rule. Yes, I am probably going to hurt Artax. Ideally your character will be placed in risky situations. I want stakes!
Finally, ROMANCE: Artax is a dragon. The human body is weird and kind of disturbing to him. I’m cool with no romance (and this also means no smut!), but if you want to add it, down to discuss. I have placed this ad in the Nonsexual Stories section, however I am actually alright with trying to write smut...with the caveat that Artax must not be a sex king (because that would be unrealistic and too in line with his original archetype), and in fact he will probably be terribly awkward.
If you’d like more info about me as a partner in general, you can check out my request thread. Feel free to send a message if you want in on these shenanigans, or if you just like a kinda tongue-in-cheek vibe and want to write something else. I do want to try a fun little experiment regarding how far I can push a goofy narrative voice (much farther than this, probably), so if you love pungent voices, we might just have a good time. Actually, I think the tone is a little dark and edgy right now and I might need to lighten it up, but Artax is in a bad situation...
Below, one of the rusted, segmented panels that made up the side of the arena screeched, rolling up and away to reveal a battered iron container. Guards in tinny armor rushed to unlatch the doors and heave them aside, then with an arthritic groan, the container disgorged a pitch black man straight into the ground. He was naked except for a dirty scrap of yellowing fabric wrapped around his hips, but that was unsurprising. More interesting was the fact that physically, he was a perfect, licorice-flavored copy of the High Riser himself.
But none of those present seemed to care about this.
“Friends—the Great Lord of Dragons, Dragon Lord Artaaaaaaaax!” howled the High Riser. Then there was deafening applause, which somehow always began the very moment he’d finished speaking.
Behind Artax, the metal wall was grinding shut again. Old blood was caked in the crannies of the riveted metal floor, which was cool against his cheek. He was floating on a sheet metal raft in the Sea of Unconsciousness, but the High Riser’s irritating voice buzzed in his ears like a cloud of fat black flies, heralding some astounding, vicious humiliation. Artax had no choice; he rose to meet it, only…trembling like egg yolks, his heavy limbs refused command. His hind legs had suddenly become alarmingly long and he could not feel the weight of his tail, which would have tipped him directly onto his nose if not for the human arms that sprang from beneath him, catching him entirely without his input. He stared, noting that the arms were black, like him.
All of the fleshy creatures perched above him laughed as if of one unholy mind, their faces twisted, but at what, Artax did not know. The High Riser’s voice sliced through the noise; the crowd fell silent as if their throats had been cut. “Look at it, crawling in the dust with its ass in the air!” Then he, too, laughed. It was a bright, wonderful sound that ignited an unwilling cheer in even Artax’s chest.
”This bloodthirsty monster, so helpless and useless in appearance, was such a thorn in our side, and for so long. But how could that be? Clarity’s strength is unrivaled!”
Artax squinted up past the blinding glare of flybulb spotlights. Far above, the perfect symmetry of the High Riser’s face was frozen in an expression of delight—the mask of an entertainer. One pale hand swept over the crowd as the High Riser began a hypnotic sequence of fanatical gesticulating, his body pristine against the deep twilight sky. Rings glittered on his fingers, and scattered like stars throughout the crowd twinkled the sympathetic light of spellwork.
“My dear friends, it is through Clarity’s very strength that the cruel and cunning Dragon Lord Artax has been reduced to the mere mortal you see here tonight. It resembles a man, but it is not one of us! For your safety, we have not brought it here in its full glory. It would have destroyed us all with its sheer size, or its ability to call down the forces of nature in a veritable orgy of violence. A dragon is terribly impressive up close, you see, so impressive you will feel your death upon you no matter your own power, and it was only due to the bravery and skill of our warriors that we achieved victory, neutering this monster to some semblance of harmlessness. A very impressive feat! That’s right, even the Lord of Dragons is no match for Clarity’s might! Praise our Immaculate Vision, whose power pierces all darkness, for tonight marks the end of this Draconic Reign of Terror!”
The young man’s voice was straining with a sense of uncontainable, almost orgasmic passion. He threw his head back, baring his pale throat, and announced, “Justice will finally be served!”
Artax grimaced; at least that expression tracked onto human musculature. The moment the High Riser closed his shapely mouth, the crowd erupted into cheers and applause, roaring louder than a crashing storm, than a volcano belching steam and smoke. But all was silent again the moment the High Riser yowled, “Release the First Challeeeeeenge!”
Something rumbled beneath Artax. Huge banners hanging from the stands, each featuring the High Riser’s mug in various pouting, semi-seductive contortions, flapped above him. The crude metal around him trembled. Unstable on all fours, he collapsed to his knees, steeling himself on reflex for crushing pain. However, to his surprise and mild disgust, the human body was perfectly comfortable in such a subordinate position—besides a faint little twinge in the kneecaps.
One segmented metal panel rattled up across the arena. Steam, surely placed there merely for dramatic effect, billowed from that new dark maw. Artax recognized the hole as his only realistic point of escape in his current wingless state; feeling small and squishy under the Dollhouse’s cold light, he stared warily into the unknown with dark, matted hair spilling all over his face, which was completely ruining his peripheral vision.
The crowd was stomping in time to the beat of some gargantuan hollow drum. A shape rose up in the clearing mist…
–
Helloooo, writers! I just wanted to see if anyone was interested in a fun, mostly unserious action/adventure story. Perhaps with dark elements, or trope subversion, or an RP style inspired by TTRPGs where we throw whatever at the wall and see what sticks. Puzzles and challenges may be provided for characters to deal with. All of this is optional, of course, if you prefer a more collaborative writing approach where we discuss all the details. In fact, starting with discussions until we get comfortable might be best, especially because violence may be involved. Also, you are free and encouraged to add your own worldbuilding elements, and all that has been written is subject to change if you like. (I suppose this may be a GM4GM ad…)
This idea, in tone and genre, is a little out of the way for the typical roleplayer in my opinion, so I don’t expect to find a partner for it anytime soon and that is cool with me. I’ll probably just bump this occasionally, or else post some equally deviant and disturbing things (ha) in the future, letting this disintegrate unused. I do have quite a bit of range regarding slice of life elements vs action/plot elements as long as there is a main plot we can take up again after a bit, so we have options.
Anyway, I have spawned this fellow with an impressive and rather silly title, Dragon Lord Artax, as someone who has had his four clawed legs cut out from under him. You can bring whoever you like – a guard, one of the teeming masses, an overseer, a waifish pickpocket hiding in the stands, the Challenge, an attendant of the High Riser, a monster, a talking dog, something else – but I ask that they be just about as weak and powerless in the face of a massive, soul-crushing societal machine. This is not a power fantasy! It’s a cartoonishly evil dystopia! Some people may die, but I have hope that Artax and your chosen creature will survive, and I don’t plan on killing significant characters without your input.
I am someone who values proactive and straightforward communication, and I feel like many of the problems we tend to explore in roleplay can be resolved easily and quickly with such wild bravery. Some of my humor genre characters are quite blunt, which might drain the fun out of partner writing for people who love interpersonal drama and tension. However, at this moment I plan for Artax to be a “dark and broody, horrible at communicating in the silent but not violent way” archetype, and if you have particular character dynamics you want to see or NOT see, definitely discuss with me and we can work it out. Artax is not set in stone because he is a new character. My current intention with him is to see if I can write the Edgelord character in a way that doesn’t choke off his potential friends, so feel free to tell me if he is too edgy in a “this gives me nothing to work with” way.
I hope it came across clearly in this starter sample: dark, handsome, and mysterious means nothing and all will be ground to dust equally under the Vision's rule. Yes, I am probably going to hurt Artax. Ideally your character will be placed in risky situations. I want stakes!
Finally, ROMANCE: Artax is a dragon. The human body is weird and kind of disturbing to him. I’m cool with no romance (and this also means no smut!), but if you want to add it, down to discuss. I have placed this ad in the Nonsexual Stories section, however I am actually alright with trying to write smut...with the caveat that Artax must not be a sex king (because that would be unrealistic and too in line with his original archetype), and in fact he will probably be terribly awkward.
If you’d like more info about me as a partner in general, you can check out my request thread. Feel free to send a message if you want in on these shenanigans, or if you just like a kinda tongue-in-cheek vibe and want to write something else. I do want to try a fun little experiment regarding how far I can push a goofy narrative voice (much farther than this, probably), so if you love pungent voices, we might just have a good time. Actually, I think the tone is a little dark and edgy right now and I might need to lighten it up, but Artax is in a bad situation...
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