- Local time
- Today 11:00 AM
- Messages
- 2
- Age
- 21
- Pronouns
- she/her
My hero academia search.
Pairings: MxF, FxF, MxM, ocxcc, ccxcc
Key Details: Looking for chatty and semi-active rp partners that like a longterm rp filled with OOC too! )
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RP style wanted:
- 3rd person, multi-paragraphs, minimum word count of 500 words per reply. More always welcome!! (I can write up to 1500 words/2000 too, would like to find a match. the better written the better the story)
- Detailed writing including writing NPC's, other CC for more conversation. This is not a request but a must! (For BOTH oc's. Yes i can write your oc's sister/friend/villain/civilian/mother ect ect and i ask the same of you)
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Character information
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Themes
- Action/violence/battle/romance/angst/general class shenanigans/dark themes/stains believes/quirk use/active fighting/blood loss/family loss. Smut? Possible. About 20% of the rp if we both think its fun (i mean who doesnt love some spicy headcanons lol) but it shouldn't be the whole goal yk! Also fine with no smut at all lmk.
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Last
- i prefer 50/50 plotting. Let's both throw in things! (Or i drop the rp without warning)
- i have a big love for chatting A lot. Like… a lot. If we’re not gushing over story ideas, pairings, characters, and headcanons like teenagers obsessed with Justin Bieber in 2010 we’re simply not a match. I rather avoid dry partners and that vibe is a reason for me to not continue a rp. (Without a warning if you are dryer than the Sahara or simply rude.)
- dipping for days/weeks/months with no warning is an automatic rp is over sign. its important to me that we keep good contact!!
Gladly see you with a introduction that must include: name, age, pronounce, perhaps something fun that will catch my eye?? 'Hi is this still open' will be ignored!!
This is a original piece of mine, no rp but it will give you the idea as for how i write, how i write my NPCs and whatever. Im looking for someone who likes to write in this style too! 669 words.
Jinren made his way over the camp, stepping over one of the man that had passed out from a mixture of wine and exhaustion. The day had been long, and the nights had been even longer. But tonight many could not sleep, as there was to much to celebrate. His blue long sword glinted as he passed one of the fire's that had been made. Above a pig being turned to nice and crispy. Fat hissed, snapping into the flames, spitting grease into the air heavy with smoke and sweat. His steps felt silent compared to the thundering of men around him.
“Hear! Oh, hear!” Lokyi, one of the patrol, rose from the flat of a stone, cup in hand, the wine already halfway down his tunic. His voice slurred, his black hair pushed back by his other hand. The noise died, faces towards the now standing soldier.
He raised the wooden goblet high, arms black with soot and blood smears. “Today, Sxalios! Tomorrow- Yuina!”
A roar answered him. Throats hoarse from screaming. Boots stomped. Cups slammed. Lokyi waved his arm like a banner, not noticing he’d sloshed the last of his wine backward. Jinu, one of the front men half-conscious, leaned back, mouth wide, catching the spill like it was rain from the gods. Red dribbled down his face, over the jagged scar that split his chin that was once a charming face.
“Thief!” Lokyi barked, eyes dropping to his empty cup, expression twitching to laughter.
Jinu only grinned, stumbling forward, hand flapping onto Lokyi’s shoulder with the grace of a dead bird. “Tomorrow Yuina- ” he slurred, “-day after that, the rest of the cursed North. And you, brother-” he slapped the iron chestplate “you’ll piss wine ‘til your cock turns red.”
The men exploded again, laughter filling the ash black air. They were high. All of them. High on the victory, high to forget the pain and remember the pride. This platoon, the platoon of Thorne has met no defeat yet. High of dreaming. High of going home with smiles on their faces. Jinren moved through them. The firelight danced over his sword. Men stepped aside without being asked. A few saluted, fists over hearts. He gave them nothing in return but a low nod and a line: "Celibrate. The night is yours"
He reached the command tent. Black canvas. The imperial crest painted in white across the flap He opened it with one hand. “May I enter?”
Inside, a grunt answered him. The air inside was somehow colder but the smell was more pleasant than candle light. In here no roasted pig, blood, or wine. There were no cups here. No laughter. No sweat and other substances.
Only her. Miyelène.
She stood at the round table in her half-armor as if she had forgotten to take off the rest, her back turned, hands planted on the map. Her shoulders held tension.
She turned. Her eyes widened at once.
She bowed low. “Forgive me. I did not hear it was you.” Jinren stepped inside and let the flap fall shut behind him. His smile was faint.“Forgiven.”
He moved to stand beside her, eyes on the map. Her formations had held. Her lines were clean. “You succeeded. Celebrate.”
“I cannot.” Her voice was flat. “It is a mere foothold in what lies ahead. To celebrate now would be... foolish.” He didn’t look at her. But he heard it. The fracture under her tone. The dry throat. The dark circles under her eyes. She hadn’t even bled today.
He reached forward, brushed her thick black hair aside with the back of his fingers. She jolted. He kissed the exposed part of her neck. She didn’t stop him, but she didn’t lean in either.
“We deserve a break.” His voice dropped lower. She turned her head slightly. Just enough to meet his eyes. “Not here. Anyone could enter. You cannot be seen. You’ll carry that stain if they see.” He looked like it was funny. “No one enters this tent without my permission.”
Pairings: MxF, FxF, MxM, ocxcc, ccxcc
Key Details: Looking for chatty and semi-active rp partners that like a longterm rp filled with OOC too! )
-----------------------------------
RP style wanted:
- 3rd person, multi-paragraphs, minimum word count of 500 words per reply. More always welcome!! (I can write up to 1500 words/2000 too, would like to find a match. the better written the better the story)
- Detailed writing including writing NPC's, other CC for more conversation. This is not a request but a must! (For BOTH oc's. Yes i can write your oc's sister/friend/villain/civilian/mother ect ect and i ask the same of you)
-----------------------------------
Character information
- my 21 year old Female oc with: Hawks!!! (Someone write this bird for me?)
- i can write a lot of characters for you!! Just ask.
- All Oc's and CC are 21+
-----------------------------------
Themes
- Action/violence/battle/romance/angst/general class shenanigans/dark themes/stains believes/quirk use/active fighting/blood loss/family loss. Smut? Possible. About 20% of the rp if we both think its fun (i mean who doesnt love some spicy headcanons lol) but it shouldn't be the whole goal yk! Also fine with no smut at all lmk.
-----------------------------------
Last
- i prefer 50/50 plotting. Let's both throw in things! (Or i drop the rp without warning)
- i have a big love for chatting A lot. Like… a lot. If we’re not gushing over story ideas, pairings, characters, and headcanons like teenagers obsessed with Justin Bieber in 2010 we’re simply not a match. I rather avoid dry partners and that vibe is a reason for me to not continue a rp. (Without a warning if you are dryer than the Sahara or simply rude.)
- dipping for days/weeks/months with no warning is an automatic rp is over sign. its important to me that we keep good contact!!
Gladly see you with a introduction that must include: name, age, pronounce, perhaps something fun that will catch my eye?? 'Hi is this still open' will be ignored!!
This is a original piece of mine, no rp but it will give you the idea as for how i write, how i write my NPCs and whatever. Im looking for someone who likes to write in this style too! 669 words.
Jinren made his way over the camp, stepping over one of the man that had passed out from a mixture of wine and exhaustion. The day had been long, and the nights had been even longer. But tonight many could not sleep, as there was to much to celebrate. His blue long sword glinted as he passed one of the fire's that had been made. Above a pig being turned to nice and crispy. Fat hissed, snapping into the flames, spitting grease into the air heavy with smoke and sweat. His steps felt silent compared to the thundering of men around him.
“Hear! Oh, hear!” Lokyi, one of the patrol, rose from the flat of a stone, cup in hand, the wine already halfway down his tunic. His voice slurred, his black hair pushed back by his other hand. The noise died, faces towards the now standing soldier.
He raised the wooden goblet high, arms black with soot and blood smears. “Today, Sxalios! Tomorrow- Yuina!”
A roar answered him. Throats hoarse from screaming. Boots stomped. Cups slammed. Lokyi waved his arm like a banner, not noticing he’d sloshed the last of his wine backward. Jinu, one of the front men half-conscious, leaned back, mouth wide, catching the spill like it was rain from the gods. Red dribbled down his face, over the jagged scar that split his chin that was once a charming face.
“Thief!” Lokyi barked, eyes dropping to his empty cup, expression twitching to laughter.
Jinu only grinned, stumbling forward, hand flapping onto Lokyi’s shoulder with the grace of a dead bird. “Tomorrow Yuina- ” he slurred, “-day after that, the rest of the cursed North. And you, brother-” he slapped the iron chestplate “you’ll piss wine ‘til your cock turns red.”
The men exploded again, laughter filling the ash black air. They were high. All of them. High on the victory, high to forget the pain and remember the pride. This platoon, the platoon of Thorne has met no defeat yet. High of dreaming. High of going home with smiles on their faces. Jinren moved through them. The firelight danced over his sword. Men stepped aside without being asked. A few saluted, fists over hearts. He gave them nothing in return but a low nod and a line: "Celibrate. The night is yours"
He reached the command tent. Black canvas. The imperial crest painted in white across the flap He opened it with one hand. “May I enter?”
Inside, a grunt answered him. The air inside was somehow colder but the smell was more pleasant than candle light. In here no roasted pig, blood, or wine. There were no cups here. No laughter. No sweat and other substances.
Only her. Miyelène.
She stood at the round table in her half-armor as if she had forgotten to take off the rest, her back turned, hands planted on the map. Her shoulders held tension.
She turned. Her eyes widened at once.
She bowed low. “Forgive me. I did not hear it was you.” Jinren stepped inside and let the flap fall shut behind him. His smile was faint.“Forgiven.”
He moved to stand beside her, eyes on the map. Her formations had held. Her lines were clean. “You succeeded. Celebrate.”
“I cannot.” Her voice was flat. “It is a mere foothold in what lies ahead. To celebrate now would be... foolish.” He didn’t look at her. But he heard it. The fracture under her tone. The dry throat. The dark circles under her eyes. She hadn’t even bled today.
He reached forward, brushed her thick black hair aside with the back of his fingers. She jolted. He kissed the exposed part of her neck. She didn’t stop him, but she didn’t lean in either.
“We deserve a break.” His voice dropped lower. She turned her head slightly. Just enough to meet his eyes. “Not here. Anyone could enter. You cannot be seen. You’ll carry that stain if they see.” He looked like it was funny. “No one enters this tent without my permission.”