- Local time
- Today 7:10 PM
- Messages
- 302
- Age
- 25
- Pronouns
- They/them he/him
…please welcome to the stage…
Hello! My name is Regan, I go by they/them he/him. I am twenty-four years of age, my back is already in constant agony and I have been writing for over a decade! I had a slight falling out with writing but I'm excited and determined to hop right back into it!
I am looking for long-term writing partners. I have some plots down below, and if you're interested in any, please send me a message. I like to think I'm an open person, so I'd love to hear your plots as well. Absolutely come to me with any ideas your amazing brain cooked up! I am happy to chat in between replies and always happy to create Spotify playlists for our characters/plots. Always feel free to send me your Pinterest board links.
I write genres such as horror, slice of life, paranormal, dystopian fiction, fantasy (high and low), urban, and dark fantasy. I always find some way to add humour to my writing, even if the plot is dark. No matter what genre I write, I always include romance in it. I am okay with gore, just not too detailed, and I love dark plots. Almost all my characters have somewhat of a sad/angsty backstory. I am pretty good with triggering topics, but I will let you know when something's too much for me. Please let me know what you're okay with and what your triggers are.
If you come to me and tell me about your preferences on plots and dynamics, I can usually create something on the spot after asking some questions to clarify. I like to think of myself as open, and I am more than happy to accommodate my writing partner's preferences. DON'T come to me with anything that violates the site's rules.
I write in the third person and can write in past or present tense, although I prefer past tense. My average posts are between 500-1500 words. With that said, I don't mind if you write less than me just as long as I can work off of it. Please don't stress about the length. I am comfortable with writing smut, but I prefer the plot to be story-driven, so the most smut-to-plot ratio I am comfortable with is about 50/50, no higher than that.
My replies range from a few posts a day to every other day or sometimes once a week, depending on the level of chaos in my life. I will always do my best to update you when I can potentially get a post out. I will also do my best let you know if I can no longer continue the roleplay or if I'll be gone longer than I'd want to. I have had moments where I've had to leave and pick back up stories at a later date. I'm ghost-friendly (after a week of no reply, I will send a message to check in, but I won't hassle you further than that.) However, I would love it if you could communicate that with me. You are more than welcome to end the roleplay whenever you want/need; you never need to explain yourself, and there will be no harsh feelings.
-All characters must be 18+
-I research plots and stories, so I'm comfortable trying anything new!
-All roles can be reversed. I don't mind playing either.
-I don't write fandom characters. (Sorry)
-Forbidden romance is always welcomed.
-I prefer writing male characters, but I am able to write in any gender.
-I am capable, and I love writing NPCs or secondary characters.
…without further ado, please welcome…
… drum roll please …
!…and for the grand finale…!
!Encore!
Hello! My name is Regan, I go by they/them he/him. I am twenty-four years of age, my back is already in constant agony and I have been writing for over a decade! I had a slight falling out with writing but I'm excited and determined to hop right back into it!
I am looking for long-term writing partners. I have some plots down below, and if you're interested in any, please send me a message. I like to think I'm an open person, so I'd love to hear your plots as well. Absolutely come to me with any ideas your amazing brain cooked up! I am happy to chat in between replies and always happy to create Spotify playlists for our characters/plots. Always feel free to send me your Pinterest board links.
I write genres such as horror, slice of life, paranormal, dystopian fiction, fantasy (high and low), urban, and dark fantasy. I always find some way to add humour to my writing, even if the plot is dark. No matter what genre I write, I always include romance in it. I am okay with gore, just not too detailed, and I love dark plots. Almost all my characters have somewhat of a sad/angsty backstory. I am pretty good with triggering topics, but I will let you know when something's too much for me. Please let me know what you're okay with and what your triggers are.
If you come to me and tell me about your preferences on plots and dynamics, I can usually create something on the spot after asking some questions to clarify. I like to think of myself as open, and I am more than happy to accommodate my writing partner's preferences. DON'T come to me with anything that violates the site's rules.
I write in the third person and can write in past or present tense, although I prefer past tense. My average posts are between 500-1500 words. With that said, I don't mind if you write less than me just as long as I can work off of it. Please don't stress about the length. I am comfortable with writing smut, but I prefer the plot to be story-driven, so the most smut-to-plot ratio I am comfortable with is about 50/50, no higher than that.
My replies range from a few posts a day to every other day or sometimes once a week, depending on the level of chaos in my life. I will always do my best to update you when I can potentially get a post out. I will also do my best let you know if I can no longer continue the roleplay or if I'll be gone longer than I'd want to. I have had moments where I've had to leave and pick back up stories at a later date. I'm ghost-friendly (after a week of no reply, I will send a message to check in, but I won't hassle you further than that.) However, I would love it if you could communicate that with me. You are more than welcome to end the roleplay whenever you want/need; you never need to explain yourself, and there will be no harsh feelings.
-All characters must be 18+
-I research plots and stories, so I'm comfortable trying anything new!
-All roles can be reversed. I don't mind playing either.
-I don't write fandom characters. (Sorry)
-Forbidden romance is always welcomed.
-I prefer writing male characters, but I am able to write in any gender.
-I am capable, and I love writing NPCs or secondary characters.
…without further ado, please welcome…
About my characters:
I tend to make a new character that fits each of my writing partners and our plot. I can create a character who is a sweetheart, kind and caring, or a sarcastic asshole who doesn't have the word 'serious' in their vocabulary. I can have an obsessive and easily jealous character or a cold and distant character who only has a soft spot for YC. A pure-hearted character who wouldn't hurt a fly or a sadistic soul whose purpose is to create chaos. Or a character somewhere in between!
Although I usually play male characters, I am comfortable writing for other genders. I can also write as multiple main characters in one plot. Male x Female pairings and male x male pairings are welcome. I am not experienced with Female x Female, but I'm willing to give it a shot if our plot calls for it!
When it comes to 'dominant and submissive' roles, it varies from character to character. However, most are in between and display both 'dominant and submissive' sides. That being said, I don't write characters who are overly dominant or fully submissive. If you'd like, you can send me a list of your likes and limits when writing erotica so I know what you're looking for.
Character sheets:
I am good with writing a basic character sheet or skipping it altogether and going straight into the writing. As for character appearance descriptions, I can either have them written out in detail or use a face claim, digital or real I'm not picky.
I tend to make a new character that fits each of my writing partners and our plot. I can create a character who is a sweetheart, kind and caring, or a sarcastic asshole who doesn't have the word 'serious' in their vocabulary. I can have an obsessive and easily jealous character or a cold and distant character who only has a soft spot for YC. A pure-hearted character who wouldn't hurt a fly or a sadistic soul whose purpose is to create chaos. Or a character somewhere in between!
Although I usually play male characters, I am comfortable writing for other genders. I can also write as multiple main characters in one plot. Male x Female pairings and male x male pairings are welcome. I am not experienced with Female x Female, but I'm willing to give it a shot if our plot calls for it!
When it comes to 'dominant and submissive' roles, it varies from character to character. However, most are in between and display both 'dominant and submissive' sides. That being said, I don't write characters who are overly dominant or fully submissive. If you'd like, you can send me a list of your likes and limits when writing erotica so I know what you're looking for.
Character sheets:
I am good with writing a basic character sheet or skipping it altogether and going straight into the writing. As for character appearance descriptions, I can either have them written out in detail or use a face claim, digital or real I'm not picky.
… drum roll please …
Grumpy x Optimistic
Deeply in love x Oblivious
Extroverts x Introverts
Not human x Not scared
Chaotic and dumbass duo
Hockey player x Figure Skater
One Chaotic dumbass x Someone calm and reasonable
Naive sweetheart x Their hot-headed guardian
Has a dark side x Loves them anyways
Has a dark side x Joins them to the dark side
Love triangles
Arranged marriages
Obsessed Characters
Gang Leader x Gang Leader/Cop/Civilian
OC Celebrity x Fan
Enemies to lovers
Exes to lovers
Mermaid x Circus performer (or simply human.)
Scientist x Experiment
God/goddess x God/goddess/Mortal
Werewolf x Human/werewolf
Vampire x Vampire/Human/Werewolf
Demon x Human/Angel/Witch
(and so on)
Polyamorous pairings are also welcome
Deeply in love x Oblivious
Extroverts x Introverts
Not human x Not scared
Chaotic and dumbass duo
Hockey player x Figure Skater
One Chaotic dumbass x Someone calm and reasonable
Naive sweetheart x Their hot-headed guardian
Has a dark side x Loves them anyways
Has a dark side x Joins them to the dark side
Love triangles
Arranged marriages
Obsessed Characters
Gang Leader x Gang Leader/Cop/Civilian
OC Celebrity x Fan
Enemies to lovers
Exes to lovers
Mermaid x Circus performer (or simply human.)
Scientist x Experiment
God/goddess x God/goddess/Mortal
Werewolf x Human/werewolf
Vampire x Vampire/Human/Werewolf
Demon x Human/Angel/Witch
(and so on)
Polyamorous pairings are also welcome
!…and for the grand finale…!
Plots!
(I will be adding to this whenever I think of one.)
"My Best Friend is a Serial Killer!"
[Horror - Slice of life]
Serial killer x Best friend
The two characters have been best friends since they were little. The serial killer, Character A, fell in love with Character B from the moment they laid eyes on them. They have yet to confess their romantic feelings.
Character A had always been sweet and kind from a young age, but once they hit early adulthood, they started to develop a killer lifestyle. They never seemed to show any signs that they could commit such acts.
As Character A's hunger for blood continued to grow stronger. The characters start forming a romantic bond.
… that is, until Character B discovers the truth about Character A.
For a more twisted plot, maybe Character A is obsessed with Character B and has been killing off their past love interests.
---
"BackStage"
[Slice of Life]
Band member/celebrity x Band member/celebrity
(This one may require more smut than others for the plot. However, we can work around that if you're uncomfortable.)
Character A is a messy lead singer in a popular band. Tragically, they lost one of their beloved members (either in death or they just left the band). The loss of the member hit Character A the hardest as they were the closest. However, the music industry doesn't stop for anyone. The band had to fill the spot that not just anyone could fill, and they had to find someone quickly. Character B, an amazing and lovable guitarist, was invited to join the grieving band.
Character A immediately disliked Character B. Character A doesn't believe Character B could fill the role before they even had the chance.
Now, the character's dynamic can be wholesome, allowing Character A to warm up to Character B with time.
or to make things messy and toxic…
In private, Character A starts to hook up with Character B but still treats them like shit in public. Character A does this to try and move on or to feel something. Character B is head over heels for Character A or genuinely doesn't mind this treatment. Maybe down the road, Character A eventually falls for Character B or never at all.
I'm open to playing multiple characters, such as the other bandmates or even the past bandmates, if we go with the route that they just left the group on their own terms. Again, suggestions are always welcome.
---
"Elevator To Hell"
"Surprise!"
Best friend x Best friend - co-workers - ex-lovers
[Horror or Urban Fantasy]
OR
---
"Can You Pretend To Be My Date?"
Character A was continuously bullied for never having been in a relationship. The constant taunts made them desperate to find a date for an event they were invited to.
Character B's family is of high status, and they're being pressured to marry a 'proper' individual. However, Character B is defiant and seems to be a bit of a player.
The two characters meet and seal a deal that benefits them both. From now on, Character B will show up to Character A's events as their date, and Character A will be their fake fiance.
This way, Character B can maintain their freedom while meeting their family's high standards, and Character A is no longer a target for bullying by friends, co-workers, and family.
This phony arrangement soon leads to real complications and a genuine emotional connection.
(I will be adding to this whenever I think of one.)
"My Best Friend is a Serial Killer!"
[Horror - Slice of life]
Serial killer x Best friend
The two characters have been best friends since they were little. The serial killer, Character A, fell in love with Character B from the moment they laid eyes on them. They have yet to confess their romantic feelings.
Character A had always been sweet and kind from a young age, but once they hit early adulthood, they started to develop a killer lifestyle. They never seemed to show any signs that they could commit such acts.
As Character A's hunger for blood continued to grow stronger. The characters start forming a romantic bond.
… that is, until Character B discovers the truth about Character A.
For a more twisted plot, maybe Character A is obsessed with Character B and has been killing off their past love interests.
---
"BackStage"
[Slice of Life]
Band member/celebrity x Band member/celebrity
(This one may require more smut than others for the plot. However, we can work around that if you're uncomfortable.)
Character A is a messy lead singer in a popular band. Tragically, they lost one of their beloved members (either in death or they just left the band). The loss of the member hit Character A the hardest as they were the closest. However, the music industry doesn't stop for anyone. The band had to fill the spot that not just anyone could fill, and they had to find someone quickly. Character B, an amazing and lovable guitarist, was invited to join the grieving band.
Character A immediately disliked Character B. Character A doesn't believe Character B could fill the role before they even had the chance.
Now, the character's dynamic can be wholesome, allowing Character A to warm up to Character B with time.
or to make things messy and toxic…
In private, Character A starts to hook up with Character B but still treats them like shit in public. Character A does this to try and move on or to feel something. Character B is head over heels for Character A or genuinely doesn't mind this treatment. Maybe down the road, Character A eventually falls for Character B or never at all.
I'm open to playing multiple characters, such as the other bandmates or even the past bandmates, if we go with the route that they just left the group on their own terms. Again, suggestions are always welcome.
---
"Elevator To Hell"
[Paranormal + Horror + Fantasy]
Demon x Human
The doors to an elevator open at the push of a button. Having seen the legend of 'The Elevator Game' circulate on the internet, curiosity got the best of you. You just had to try it.
You enter the elevator, remembering the specific button sequence to press as you begin your journey to hell.
The button to the fourth floor is pressed, and the elevator doors open and close, nothing out of the ordinary. The second floor next, and again the doors open and shut. Next is the sixth floor, and again, nothing seemed any different. On the second floor, things felt a little eerie again, but you press the button to the tenth floor. The doors open and shut as your finger hesitates to touch the fifth floor's button. Mustering up your confidence you finally press the fifth button, you descend to the fifth floor and to your surprise a young man enters the elevator along with you. Perhaps it's the man the legend warned you about. With the new company, all that's left is to press the first button. Shaky fingers press the button with the number one on it. Just as the instructions said, the elevator began ascending instead of returning to the first floor. Your last chance of leaving the game vanishes as you pass the ninth floor and near the tenth. You must see this little game to the end.
The elevator opens once you reach the tenth floor, and nothing about it seems right to you. Freaked out, you are quick to press the button for the first floor, completely disregarding the rest of the rules. You exit the elevator and continue your life as if you never played the elevator game. At first, you noticed the world you knew felt off, and things continued getting weirder.
Again… regarding the man in the elevator, DO NOT look at him, DO NOT talk to him. If you do, he may decide to keep you for his own.
So my plan for this one is that character A accidentally opens a portal or something that allows demons to enter their world. Character B is the demon that enters the elevator, and as the legend has it, he claims Character A as his own. The problem is that other demons also enter Character A's world and are now looking for Character A. It's a loose idea, so any thoughts as to where we can go with this plot are welcomed!
---Demon x Human
The doors to an elevator open at the push of a button. Having seen the legend of 'The Elevator Game' circulate on the internet, curiosity got the best of you. You just had to try it.
You enter the elevator, remembering the specific button sequence to press as you begin your journey to hell.
The button to the fourth floor is pressed, and the elevator doors open and close, nothing out of the ordinary. The second floor next, and again the doors open and shut. Next is the sixth floor, and again, nothing seemed any different. On the second floor, things felt a little eerie again, but you press the button to the tenth floor. The doors open and shut as your finger hesitates to touch the fifth floor's button. Mustering up your confidence you finally press the fifth button, you descend to the fifth floor and to your surprise a young man enters the elevator along with you. Perhaps it's the man the legend warned you about. With the new company, all that's left is to press the first button. Shaky fingers press the button with the number one on it. Just as the instructions said, the elevator began ascending instead of returning to the first floor. Your last chance of leaving the game vanishes as you pass the ninth floor and near the tenth. You must see this little game to the end.
The elevator opens once you reach the tenth floor, and nothing about it seems right to you. Freaked out, you are quick to press the button for the first floor, completely disregarding the rest of the rules. You exit the elevator and continue your life as if you never played the elevator game. At first, you noticed the world you knew felt off, and things continued getting weirder.
Again… regarding the man in the elevator, DO NOT look at him, DO NOT talk to him. If you do, he may decide to keep you for his own.
So my plan for this one is that character A accidentally opens a portal or something that allows demons to enter their world. Character B is the demon that enters the elevator, and as the legend has it, he claims Character A as his own. The problem is that other demons also enter Character A's world and are now looking for Character A. It's a loose idea, so any thoughts as to where we can go with this plot are welcomed!
"Surprise!"
Best friend x Best friend - co-workers - ex-lovers
[Horror or Urban Fantasy]
OR
Serial killer x Civilan - Gang leader x Civilan - Vampire x Human
Character A has been single for a while after a nasty breakup. They weren't interested in returning to the dating pool and, quite honestly, lost all hope for romance.
Their co-workers notice this and take it upon themselves to set up Character A on a blind date. Character A finally agrees to go on a blind date after their co-workers beg them to go on after declaring they've found the perfect one. Their date is Character B, and they're someone Character A already knew (boss, ex-partner, old best friend, current best friend).
For a darker twist
Alternatively, the date goes wonderfully, and Character B seems too good to be true. Character B has a dangerous side to them that might put Character B in danger. Character B could be a serial killer, a gang member/leader, or, to add a fantasy spin, Character B could be a different species altogether.
Character A has been single for a while after a nasty breakup. They weren't interested in returning to the dating pool and, quite honestly, lost all hope for romance.
Their co-workers notice this and take it upon themselves to set up Character A on a blind date. Character A finally agrees to go on a blind date after their co-workers beg them to go on after declaring they've found the perfect one. Their date is Character B, and they're someone Character A already knew (boss, ex-partner, old best friend, current best friend).
For a darker twist
Alternatively, the date goes wonderfully, and Character B seems too good to be true. Character B has a dangerous side to them that might put Character B in danger. Character B could be a serial killer, a gang member/leader, or, to add a fantasy spin, Character B could be a different species altogether.
---
"Can You Pretend To Be My Date?"
[Slice of life]
Loner x Popular?
Character A was continuously bullied for never having been in a relationship. The constant taunts made them desperate to find a date for an event they were invited to.
Character B's family is of high status, and they're being pressured to marry a 'proper' individual. However, Character B is defiant and seems to be a bit of a player.
The two characters meet and seal a deal that benefits them both. From now on, Character B will show up to Character A's events as their date, and Character A will be their fake fiance.
This way, Character B can maintain their freedom while meeting their family's high standards, and Character A is no longer a target for bullying by friends, co-workers, and family.
This phony arrangement soon leads to real complications and a genuine emotional connection.
!Encore!
Scene: A current roleplay I am working on. The plot "My Bestfriend is a Serial Killer!"
(WARNING! Mild Gore)
---
(WARNING! Mild Gore)
---
On the highest shelf in the hallway, he reached for an urn with the name Rhea engraved in pretty cursive. It was his mother's name, although his mother was very much alive. Once the lid was opened, he shook out a key. With one last glance, he unlocked the door to the basement.
His boots thumped tauntingly as he descended the wooden basement stairs. He navigated through the dark basement from memory alone until he stood before what could be described as a walk-in fridge. Designed and crafted by yours truly. He punched in a code that unlocked the contraption. To keep the meat fresh until Ryker packaged it for delivery, he usually kept the temperature chilled, but tonight the meat was warm with life.
The piercing fluorescent light flickered on and revealed his private playground. The new favourite toy lay on the table like a feast waiting to be devoured. The very man who had come close to harming Vivian that night when she slipped from Ryker's fingers at a party. His jaw clenched subtly at the memory before he focused on the task at hand. He closed the heavy door behind him and took in the sickening sight.
Henry had seemingly spat out the gag Ryker shoved past his lips when he first brought Henry home. That must have been what he was hearing from upstairs. It was useless. What Ryker built, the weeks he spent in design alone, was soundproof. Ryker's gaze landed on the raw marks on Henry's wrists. Ryker figured Henry would squirm and tug in attempts to free himself. Ryker gave each wrist restraint a harsh tug. Still snug.
From just above where the knee should have been, Henry's legs were dressed expertly with gauze. Dried blood had created a rustic look on the gauze wrapped around the unwanted amputation.
After the necessary dismemberment, Ryker had cauterized the wounds he inflicted. Ryker didn't want the man bleeding out on him, no, that would be no fun. Ryker was like a cat who swatted and batted at his prey again and again until there was no life left to play with.
It may seem Ryker had dropped his craft mid-creation, but he had the thirst to savour this art project. He never kept a guest around for this long. It was reckless, he knew. He was swift and timely with his strict schedule with his past victims. He had rules in place to lessen the chances of being caught. It was a greater risk if Henry's remains were ever found because Ryker would be the one with a motive. Ryker had no other choice but to make Henry an exception to go off the books. Besides, the remains would never be found, he made sure of that. Vivian was known to pick terrible partners, but this, this was different. Ryker looked at the restrained man with a cold, unblinking stare that made him look almost nonhuman.
He began his routine the way he had done time and time again. A carefully thought-out pattern. Words weren't a part of this moment in the routine, and so his lips remained close. The secluded room remained noiseless, even his footsteps were non-existent as he moved through the room. He dipped his head and slipped the rubber apron over his head. Thick latex gloves quickly followed suit. His motions were fluid, not a movement was uncalculated or wasted. His tools next to him were neatly laid out, not a smudge on the shiny steel metals. The only stain in this room was… Ryker's eyes spared a flick to Henry. Him. Ryker took stain removal very seriously.
Refocused, he reached for a record player sitting alone. The rustic, vintage device seemed out of place in a purely tiled white room. An old record waited patiently on the platter. With a careful finger to lift the tonearm, he used the cue lever and gently placed the needle on the record's edge. The sound that came through the speakers at first was a soft static noise, and then there was the delicate sound of the bouncing, upbeat music orchestra that took over. The song of choice today was the 1930s "Livin' In The sunlight Lovin' in The Moonlight" by Bing Crosby and the Paul Whiteman Orchestra. It was an appropriate song to celebrate the advancement in his relationship with Vivian. In came the pleasant, happy-go-lucky, light baritone voice through the speakers.
"Things that bother you, never bother me, I think everything's fine."
Ryker tapped each tool on the stainless steel counter, and his touch followed down the neat line he had placed them in. A ritual he had to do before he grabbed the black Sharpie that waited at the end. He brought his attention once more to Henry. He crossed the room, now by Henry's side, he eyed the man strapped down. His intense stare followed the curve of Henry's jaw thoughtfully. He measured and evaluated with a long look that had grown unnerving by the second.
The harsh fluorescent lighting emphasized Ryker's colourless appearance, his platinum blonde hair now looked almost white, and his ivory skin looked ghostly. He was a blank sheet in need of a little colouring. All but those piercing maroon eyes that popped against the pure white backdrop.
Ryker's large hand snatched the man's chin firmly; his tight grip kept Henry still and prevented him from messing with Ryker's craft. "Don't squirm. I am trying to measure the space between the molar and your jaw." He had finally spoken, his monotone voice demanding and held an underlying warning. As if he were about to perform surgery, he had run the Sharpie in precise and steady lines along the chosen path that felt correct to Ryker. He repeated this action on the other side and then moved to find the perfect path across Henry's neck. He worked the marker down Henry's body and marked each spot that he knew would be easy for a blade to sever. That knowledge was gained from extensive research and his prior experiences. If he hadn't ended up in this hobby, he would have made a great surgeon. His expression remained neutral and unchanging. Not a twitch of his lips, no movement in his eyebrows. Inhuman
Every so often, he'd let out a low hum, the deep rumble matched the music that made up for his wordless actions. With every dip in the old lopsided record, the static popped softly and crackled, complementing the music track from the old song as Bing Crosby sang,
"Just take it from me, I'm just as free as any dove, I do what I like, just when I like, and how I love it."
His boots thumped tauntingly as he descended the wooden basement stairs. He navigated through the dark basement from memory alone until he stood before what could be described as a walk-in fridge. Designed and crafted by yours truly. He punched in a code that unlocked the contraption. To keep the meat fresh until Ryker packaged it for delivery, he usually kept the temperature chilled, but tonight the meat was warm with life.
The piercing fluorescent light flickered on and revealed his private playground. The new favourite toy lay on the table like a feast waiting to be devoured. The very man who had come close to harming Vivian that night when she slipped from Ryker's fingers at a party. His jaw clenched subtly at the memory before he focused on the task at hand. He closed the heavy door behind him and took in the sickening sight.
Henry had seemingly spat out the gag Ryker shoved past his lips when he first brought Henry home. That must have been what he was hearing from upstairs. It was useless. What Ryker built, the weeks he spent in design alone, was soundproof. Ryker's gaze landed on the raw marks on Henry's wrists. Ryker figured Henry would squirm and tug in attempts to free himself. Ryker gave each wrist restraint a harsh tug. Still snug.
From just above where the knee should have been, Henry's legs were dressed expertly with gauze. Dried blood had created a rustic look on the gauze wrapped around the unwanted amputation.
After the necessary dismemberment, Ryker had cauterized the wounds he inflicted. Ryker didn't want the man bleeding out on him, no, that would be no fun. Ryker was like a cat who swatted and batted at his prey again and again until there was no life left to play with.
It may seem Ryker had dropped his craft mid-creation, but he had the thirst to savour this art project. He never kept a guest around for this long. It was reckless, he knew. He was swift and timely with his strict schedule with his past victims. He had rules in place to lessen the chances of being caught. It was a greater risk if Henry's remains were ever found because Ryker would be the one with a motive. Ryker had no other choice but to make Henry an exception to go off the books. Besides, the remains would never be found, he made sure of that. Vivian was known to pick terrible partners, but this, this was different. Ryker looked at the restrained man with a cold, unblinking stare that made him look almost nonhuman.
He began his routine the way he had done time and time again. A carefully thought-out pattern. Words weren't a part of this moment in the routine, and so his lips remained close. The secluded room remained noiseless, even his footsteps were non-existent as he moved through the room. He dipped his head and slipped the rubber apron over his head. Thick latex gloves quickly followed suit. His motions were fluid, not a movement was uncalculated or wasted. His tools next to him were neatly laid out, not a smudge on the shiny steel metals. The only stain in this room was… Ryker's eyes spared a flick to Henry. Him. Ryker took stain removal very seriously.
Refocused, he reached for a record player sitting alone. The rustic, vintage device seemed out of place in a purely tiled white room. An old record waited patiently on the platter. With a careful finger to lift the tonearm, he used the cue lever and gently placed the needle on the record's edge. The sound that came through the speakers at first was a soft static noise, and then there was the delicate sound of the bouncing, upbeat music orchestra that took over. The song of choice today was the 1930s "Livin' In The sunlight Lovin' in The Moonlight" by Bing Crosby and the Paul Whiteman Orchestra. It was an appropriate song to celebrate the advancement in his relationship with Vivian. In came the pleasant, happy-go-lucky, light baritone voice through the speakers.
"Things that bother you, never bother me, I think everything's fine."
Ryker tapped each tool on the stainless steel counter, and his touch followed down the neat line he had placed them in. A ritual he had to do before he grabbed the black Sharpie that waited at the end. He brought his attention once more to Henry. He crossed the room, now by Henry's side, he eyed the man strapped down. His intense stare followed the curve of Henry's jaw thoughtfully. He measured and evaluated with a long look that had grown unnerving by the second.
The harsh fluorescent lighting emphasized Ryker's colourless appearance, his platinum blonde hair now looked almost white, and his ivory skin looked ghostly. He was a blank sheet in need of a little colouring. All but those piercing maroon eyes that popped against the pure white backdrop.
Ryker's large hand snatched the man's chin firmly; his tight grip kept Henry still and prevented him from messing with Ryker's craft. "Don't squirm. I am trying to measure the space between the molar and your jaw." He had finally spoken, his monotone voice demanding and held an underlying warning. As if he were about to perform surgery, he had run the Sharpie in precise and steady lines along the chosen path that felt correct to Ryker. He repeated this action on the other side and then moved to find the perfect path across Henry's neck. He worked the marker down Henry's body and marked each spot that he knew would be easy for a blade to sever. That knowledge was gained from extensive research and his prior experiences. If he hadn't ended up in this hobby, he would have made a great surgeon. His expression remained neutral and unchanging. Not a twitch of his lips, no movement in his eyebrows. Inhuman
Every so often, he'd let out a low hum, the deep rumble matched the music that made up for his wordless actions. With every dip in the old lopsided record, the static popped softly and crackled, complementing the music track from the old song as Bing Crosby sang,
"Just take it from me, I'm just as free as any dove, I do what I like, just when I like, and how I love it."
(Scene: Current roleplay with the plot, "Can You Pretend To Be My Date?" Zephyr is a mechanic by day but a street fighter by night, with a mother who just wants her son to live a "normal" life and settle down. So, his solution to that is to bring home a stranger as his date.)
Disclaimer: I know nothing about cars.
--
"She's up and running and all yours again." Zephyr tapped the roof of the car with a flat palm, almost as if he were praising the vehicle. His light brown hair soaked up the sun's warm glow, enhanced the blonde streaks and created a golden halo. The sun caught his observant eyes, his pupils shrank in size to reveal more of those amber irises. He squinted uncomfortably before he held up a scarred, calloused hand to shield himself from the setting sun. His eyes continued to gaze curiously now that they were free from the harsh rays that were still warm from the day.
"I had her ready half an hour ago. Quick fix. Just your standard voltage regulator replacement. My old man was timing me to see if I could replace the whole thing under 2 hours at the age of 15." He reminisced unpromptedly and fished for the keys in his pocket. He tossed the car keys across the hood of the car into the hands of his owner, a client who had shown up unexpectedly just as Zephyr had closed up shop.
"Treat her good, boss." Of course, Zephyr had made an exception and stayed over time. Would it be called an exception if accommodating others at his expense was a common habit of his?
His boots crunched on the gravel as he made his way back to his workbench and grabbed the first tool within reach. He pulled out an old rag from the back pocket of his faded jeans and began to wipe down the wrench. It didn't need to be cleaned, he had done that as soon as he finished up his work on his client's car. He adored his tools and took pride in the care he gave them. He used the repetitive task as a cover and not to look like a complete idiot as he snuck glances at his client. The oil and grease-stained rag matched his clothes and exposed skin, which went unnoticed by him. If you worked at the shop for as long as he has, it felt as if it were a second skin. But once the sun went down, he'd enter the ring and his skin would be decorated with a new palette of bruises, blood and scrapes.
He set down the wrench, picked up another pristine tool, and stole another glimpse. It wasn't like Zephyr was oogling over the man, although Zephyr would be lying if he didn't find him handsome. But that is besides the point.
The man seemed successful, a decent guy, had his life put together… maybe… It wasn't like there were a lot of options, especially not from this side of the city or anyone Zephyr knew. No one who would make his mother proud, at least. The worst he could do is say no, right?
Well, there's no other way to ask this, he minus well spill it now before his client rode off into the sunset, never to be seen again.
"Date me." Zephyr blurted out, he paused his task abruptly, his eyes locked on the younger male's eyes. "I mean, not really, date. Think of it as acting. I just need you to meet my ma' to tell her that there's nothing to be worried about and I won't go making her concerned anymore now that I have a normal life." Zephyr rambled on as he tried to convey his blunt and odd request.
He realized he sounded absurd and not in the productive kind of way. Zephyr snapped his mouth shut and set down the tool as he collected himself. With a slow, steady breath, he spoke again. "My mom, she's worried about me. Think's I don't want to have a normal life or settle down. I don't want to disappoint her, but I can't be who she wants me to be. If I come home with someone, show her I'll be alright, she will stop worrying. I think, I think you can help me with that."
/SPOILER]
Disclaimer: I know nothing about cars.
--
"She's up and running and all yours again." Zephyr tapped the roof of the car with a flat palm, almost as if he were praising the vehicle. His light brown hair soaked up the sun's warm glow, enhanced the blonde streaks and created a golden halo. The sun caught his observant eyes, his pupils shrank in size to reveal more of those amber irises. He squinted uncomfortably before he held up a scarred, calloused hand to shield himself from the setting sun. His eyes continued to gaze curiously now that they were free from the harsh rays that were still warm from the day.
"I had her ready half an hour ago. Quick fix. Just your standard voltage regulator replacement. My old man was timing me to see if I could replace the whole thing under 2 hours at the age of 15." He reminisced unpromptedly and fished for the keys in his pocket. He tossed the car keys across the hood of the car into the hands of his owner, a client who had shown up unexpectedly just as Zephyr had closed up shop.
"Treat her good, boss." Of course, Zephyr had made an exception and stayed over time. Would it be called an exception if accommodating others at his expense was a common habit of his?
His boots crunched on the gravel as he made his way back to his workbench and grabbed the first tool within reach. He pulled out an old rag from the back pocket of his faded jeans and began to wipe down the wrench. It didn't need to be cleaned, he had done that as soon as he finished up his work on his client's car. He adored his tools and took pride in the care he gave them. He used the repetitive task as a cover and not to look like a complete idiot as he snuck glances at his client. The oil and grease-stained rag matched his clothes and exposed skin, which went unnoticed by him. If you worked at the shop for as long as he has, it felt as if it were a second skin. But once the sun went down, he'd enter the ring and his skin would be decorated with a new palette of bruises, blood and scrapes.
He set down the wrench, picked up another pristine tool, and stole another glimpse. It wasn't like Zephyr was oogling over the man, although Zephyr would be lying if he didn't find him handsome. But that is besides the point.
The man seemed successful, a decent guy, had his life put together… maybe… It wasn't like there were a lot of options, especially not from this side of the city or anyone Zephyr knew. No one who would make his mother proud, at least. The worst he could do is say no, right?
Well, there's no other way to ask this, he minus well spill it now before his client rode off into the sunset, never to be seen again.
"Date me." Zephyr blurted out, he paused his task abruptly, his eyes locked on the younger male's eyes. "I mean, not really, date. Think of it as acting. I just need you to meet my ma' to tell her that there's nothing to be worried about and I won't go making her concerned anymore now that I have a normal life." Zephyr rambled on as he tried to convey his blunt and odd request.
He realized he sounded absurd and not in the productive kind of way. Zephyr snapped his mouth shut and set down the tool as he collected himself. With a slow, steady breath, he spoke again. "My mom, she's worried about me. Think's I don't want to have a normal life or settle down. I don't want to disappoint her, but I can't be who she wants me to be. If I come home with someone, show her I'll be alright, she will stop worrying. I think, I think you can help me with that."
/SPOILER]
Scene:
(This is a past roleplay. The plot was a fake marriage between the two main characters. Quinnton, on the outside, is your classic Playboy billionaire on a rebellious streak, but he has a complicated and deeper history than he shows. He's a charming character yet has a sly, condescending aspect in his social interactions. This time, he made a sly comment that went a little too far. As a result, he got slapped, and a comment was made about his father being the one to pay his way. And Quinnton does not like those comments one bit.)
–
Quinnton feigned good nature and kept his demeanour kittenish despite the clear-as-day handprint on his cheek she so kindly gifted him. The mark burned a bright red shade, and the heat of it stung under his skin. But it wasn't until she brought up his father. There was a heavy shift in the air as the two stood in a thick silence. He stared her down, a darkness fell over his olive-hued gaze. It was as if their eyes were bound, wordlessly locked together. The look he gave her… it looked like he was about to rip her soul apart limb from limb.
She didn't know a goddamn thing about him and what he's gone through. Everything he's done to get where he is today. For her to throw things out there so confidently? Oh, how she read him wrong, and he wanted to make sure she knew it. He stepped towards her as if he were a beast who calculatedly emerged from the shadows to reveal himself to his prey.
"So, your name is Katy," Quinnton repeated once he was looming over her. He lingered for a moment and then lowered himself to a crouch before her. Although he was the one who physically looked up at her, it felt as though it was her smaller frame that he towered over. His wrists rested on either knee, and his hands hung loosely; the gold rings that decorated his fingers reflected in the light.
"Alright Katy," He drew his tongue out to lap at the small tear in the corner of his lip, her ring created on impact. With the tip of his tongue dipped in red he pulled it back into his mouth, he sucked his spit to one spot as the copper taste mixed with it. He then turned his head to the side and spat out the blood and saliva mixture. His voice then seeped out as he matched hers, low and firm, however, he carried a deep growl to it. "My name is Quinnton Barratte. Daddy's money didn't make me. I did. I may have struggled in my daddy's shadow in the past, but I clawed my way bloody to the top and destroyed the lives of many good men to get there. Those who got in my way now can't get a job at your local McDonald's, even if they beg to lick the grease off the floors. And you know what, Miss Katy? I like that about me. I get what I want when I want and right now, what I want is you. So, if it's a game you'd like me to play. I'll gladly play your game, Miss Katy." He let his words ring slowly as they sank deep into the woman he directed them at. He gave her a look into his dark heart without going into detail.
(This is a past roleplay. The plot was a fake marriage between the two main characters. Quinnton, on the outside, is your classic Playboy billionaire on a rebellious streak, but he has a complicated and deeper history than he shows. He's a charming character yet has a sly, condescending aspect in his social interactions. This time, he made a sly comment that went a little too far. As a result, he got slapped, and a comment was made about his father being the one to pay his way. And Quinnton does not like those comments one bit.)
–
Quinnton feigned good nature and kept his demeanour kittenish despite the clear-as-day handprint on his cheek she so kindly gifted him. The mark burned a bright red shade, and the heat of it stung under his skin. But it wasn't until she brought up his father. There was a heavy shift in the air as the two stood in a thick silence. He stared her down, a darkness fell over his olive-hued gaze. It was as if their eyes were bound, wordlessly locked together. The look he gave her… it looked like he was about to rip her soul apart limb from limb.
She didn't know a goddamn thing about him and what he's gone through. Everything he's done to get where he is today. For her to throw things out there so confidently? Oh, how she read him wrong, and he wanted to make sure she knew it. He stepped towards her as if he were a beast who calculatedly emerged from the shadows to reveal himself to his prey.
"So, your name is Katy," Quinnton repeated once he was looming over her. He lingered for a moment and then lowered himself to a crouch before her. Although he was the one who physically looked up at her, it felt as though it was her smaller frame that he towered over. His wrists rested on either knee, and his hands hung loosely; the gold rings that decorated his fingers reflected in the light.
"Alright Katy," He drew his tongue out to lap at the small tear in the corner of his lip, her ring created on impact. With the tip of his tongue dipped in red he pulled it back into his mouth, he sucked his spit to one spot as the copper taste mixed with it. He then turned his head to the side and spat out the blood and saliva mixture. His voice then seeped out as he matched hers, low and firm, however, he carried a deep growl to it. "My name is Quinnton Barratte. Daddy's money didn't make me. I did. I may have struggled in my daddy's shadow in the past, but I clawed my way bloody to the top and destroyed the lives of many good men to get there. Those who got in my way now can't get a job at your local McDonald's, even if they beg to lick the grease off the floors. And you know what, Miss Katy? I like that about me. I get what I want when I want and right now, what I want is you. So, if it's a game you'd like me to play. I'll gladly play your game, Miss Katy." He let his words ring slowly as they sank deep into the woman he directed them at. He gave her a look into his dark heart without going into detail.
(Scene: A current role play with a circus theme. A merman who was scooped from the sea and forced to perform in the circus. The circus Celeste knew all his life closed down and he's starting his circus life all over again.)
--
"Good morning! The name is Celeste, I am… or I was one of the sideshows at the Timeless Tent of Wonders. I am happy to be a member of this wonderful circus family." Celeste's chipper voice started strong as he introduced himself to the performers and crew members who were heavily immersed in the assembly process of the circus around him.
Celeste spoke briefly of the previous circus he belonged to. Celeste was a popular sideshow of Timeless Tent of Wonders, but it didn't matter because, in the end, business became overwhelmingly slow. One by one, the performers were bought out by their competition. Celeste was hesitant, of course, he developed an odd attachment to the very tank and tents that stole his life from the sea, but here he was.
Surprised by the lack of response, his long, pale eyelashes fluttered when he blinked several times before he cleared his throat and tried again.
"I'm looking for the Black Rabbit. I believe her name is Mirabelle. If you could possibly direct me to her, oh, my-- that looks heavy," Celeste spoke and slowly turned his head to the left to follow a circus member who carried some sort of flashy equipment. When that person was out of words' reach, ignoring him completely, Celeste turned to the right as another member walked by.
"Excuse me, would you happen to know where I can find… ah…" The man with the curly mustache didn't spare him a glance, which caused Celeste's words to die out. He did this several times as he tried to find someone, anyone who would realize he was there.
He furrowed his eyebrows, and a slight frown appeared on his pale lips, but the frown looked more like a frustrated pout to any witnesses. "Does anyone know where I can find Mirabelle the Black rabbit?" Celeste called out to the crowd that didn't seem to acknowledge his existence. His pale, elegant hands gripped the handle of his worn-out bag, which carried the few things he had to his name. He suddenly felt small and out of place in the environment that buzzed around him as he stood in the middle of the chaos. Yet again, no response.
"For God's sake, does anyone in this damn place have working ears!?"
He announced fed up. The translucent ear fins, peeked out from his long snow white hair fluttered with a mix of frustration, and a slight pink tinted his cheeks displayed his flustered state. He finally got a reaction; someone nearby shot him a disapproving look, which caused Celeste to shrink even more than before. He immediately regretted his words once he realized how harsh they sounded.
Everyone was so much more welcoming back home…
he couldn't help but think to himself with a defeated sigh. He wanted to plop down right there on the spot dramatically and give up. It wasn't easy! Switching circuses like he was now. He had been at the previous circus since he was a guppy! All he's known was those tent colours and that tank. Now he was left here. Without his family, in a place he felt he didn't belong, with unfamiliar faces and looking for someone who went by the stage name Black Rabbit.
--
"Good morning! The name is Celeste, I am… or I was one of the sideshows at the Timeless Tent of Wonders. I am happy to be a member of this wonderful circus family." Celeste's chipper voice started strong as he introduced himself to the performers and crew members who were heavily immersed in the assembly process of the circus around him.
Celeste spoke briefly of the previous circus he belonged to. Celeste was a popular sideshow of Timeless Tent of Wonders, but it didn't matter because, in the end, business became overwhelmingly slow. One by one, the performers were bought out by their competition. Celeste was hesitant, of course, he developed an odd attachment to the very tank and tents that stole his life from the sea, but here he was.
Surprised by the lack of response, his long, pale eyelashes fluttered when he blinked several times before he cleared his throat and tried again.
"I'm looking for the Black Rabbit. I believe her name is Mirabelle. If you could possibly direct me to her, oh, my-- that looks heavy," Celeste spoke and slowly turned his head to the left to follow a circus member who carried some sort of flashy equipment. When that person was out of words' reach, ignoring him completely, Celeste turned to the right as another member walked by.
"Excuse me, would you happen to know where I can find… ah…" The man with the curly mustache didn't spare him a glance, which caused Celeste's words to die out. He did this several times as he tried to find someone, anyone who would realize he was there.
He furrowed his eyebrows, and a slight frown appeared on his pale lips, but the frown looked more like a frustrated pout to any witnesses. "Does anyone know where I can find Mirabelle the Black rabbit?" Celeste called out to the crowd that didn't seem to acknowledge his existence. His pale, elegant hands gripped the handle of his worn-out bag, which carried the few things he had to his name. He suddenly felt small and out of place in the environment that buzzed around him as he stood in the middle of the chaos. Yet again, no response.
"For God's sake, does anyone in this damn place have working ears!?"
He announced fed up. The translucent ear fins, peeked out from his long snow white hair fluttered with a mix of frustration, and a slight pink tinted his cheeks displayed his flustered state. He finally got a reaction; someone nearby shot him a disapproving look, which caused Celeste to shrink even more than before. He immediately regretted his words once he realized how harsh they sounded.
Everyone was so much more welcoming back home…
he couldn't help but think to himself with a defeated sigh. He wanted to plop down right there on the spot dramatically and give up. It wasn't easy! Switching circuses like he was now. He had been at the previous circus since he was a guppy! All he's known was those tent colours and that tank. Now he was left here. Without his family, in a place he felt he didn't belong, with unfamiliar faces and looking for someone who went by the stage name Black Rabbit.
Last edited:
