Time for a very lazy request thread.
Who are you, how long have you been writing and what kind of things do you like to write?
Hail and welcome all. I am Ottoman, often just Otto, and I've been writing for... God, 14 years now? I don't like feeling the encroaching and ceaseless march of my own mortality - so! I adore science fiction and fantasy, but I also have written a good bit of contemporary fiction. I'm not much of one for historicals, though you'll find nearly all of my settings are heavily inspired by history. Why the discrepancy? I am a nitpicker, and I have some periods of history that I am probably way too passionate about, and others I couldn't care less for. I can't hold other people to my standards to the eras I dig, and vice versa for the ones I don't care about. I'll just skip the headaches and drama and stick to fantasy/SF/other worlds - there's no such thing as anachronism when you're not dealing with Earth. Mostly.
So, I suppose I do historicals, just with a different coat of paint slapped on it.
My stories are usually tragic, though I am enough of a hopeless romantic that I do believe that good will always prevail, in the very end. This doesn't stop two out of three of my characters being villains and/or villainous. A distinct lack of any good villains on the site I got started writing on pushed me into a niche and I've made it my home. If you want to write the bad guys, I got you homie. I am aiming for solid, character driven tales, and if romance happens then it happens - gradually and over time as LitGod intended - but flat out I will not do smut. Nothing against people who do, but it's not what I want to write.
Oh, also, third-person past-tense is my style. I may have tense shifts between past and present and for that I genuinely apologize. It's a weakness of mine.
How long do your replies tend to be and what is your writing schedule like?
My replies can vary in length as anything from 400 words to 4,000 - just let me know what level we're gonna be operating at and I can match. My schedule is definitely atypical. I'm CST, but I work thirds, so the morning on weekdays is my bread and butter for getting things done. 0800-1100 hrs CST is best M-F. Weekends are weird - unavailable most of the day Friday, Fri Night, and Saturday, but Saturday night I'm up all night so hmu fam. As for post regularity, my life has a way of going topsy turvy on a moment's notice but I'll be transparent about it. I won't expect harsh deadlines out of others, all I ask is the same in return.
What is your tolerance level for gore? Violence?
WHAT IS THE SPIRIT OF THE BAYONET?
Do you write any fandoms? (Please bear in mind that any characters under 18 and any high school settings must be aged up)
Not really, mostly original settings and work. The only fandoms I've dabbled in are Ace Combat, Star Wars, and ASoIaF, but I'm not aiming to write any of that if I can help it.
Do you have any pairing or setting ideas?
Oh boy do I.
Do you have any detailed plots prepared?
Oh boy do I.
Do you have any characters you want to write? (Our character forum is here if you want a dedicated thread)
Yes.
Any additional notes you want to add?
Here's (some of) the plots I've currently got percolating:
EDIT 12/13/22:
Added in some sci-fi plots for people who are into that sort of thing. If any of it interests you, shoot me a message!
Who are you, how long have you been writing and what kind of things do you like to write?
Hail and welcome all. I am Ottoman, often just Otto, and I've been writing for... God, 14 years now? I don't like feeling the encroaching and ceaseless march of my own mortality - so! I adore science fiction and fantasy, but I also have written a good bit of contemporary fiction. I'm not much of one for historicals, though you'll find nearly all of my settings are heavily inspired by history. Why the discrepancy? I am a nitpicker, and I have some periods of history that I am probably way too passionate about, and others I couldn't care less for. I can't hold other people to my standards to the eras I dig, and vice versa for the ones I don't care about. I'll just skip the headaches and drama and stick to fantasy/SF/other worlds - there's no such thing as anachronism when you're not dealing with Earth. Mostly.
So, I suppose I do historicals, just with a different coat of paint slapped on it.
My stories are usually tragic, though I am enough of a hopeless romantic that I do believe that good will always prevail, in the very end. This doesn't stop two out of three of my characters being villains and/or villainous. A distinct lack of any good villains on the site I got started writing on pushed me into a niche and I've made it my home. If you want to write the bad guys, I got you homie. I am aiming for solid, character driven tales, and if romance happens then it happens - gradually and over time as LitGod intended - but flat out I will not do smut. Nothing against people who do, but it's not what I want to write.
Oh, also, third-person past-tense is my style. I may have tense shifts between past and present and for that I genuinely apologize. It's a weakness of mine.
How long do your replies tend to be and what is your writing schedule like?
My replies can vary in length as anything from 400 words to 4,000 - just let me know what level we're gonna be operating at and I can match. My schedule is definitely atypical. I'm CST, but I work thirds, so the morning on weekdays is my bread and butter for getting things done. 0800-1100 hrs CST is best M-F. Weekends are weird - unavailable most of the day Friday, Fri Night, and Saturday, but Saturday night I'm up all night so hmu fam. As for post regularity, my life has a way of going topsy turvy on a moment's notice but I'll be transparent about it. I won't expect harsh deadlines out of others, all I ask is the same in return.
What is your tolerance level for gore? Violence?
WHAT IS THE SPIRIT OF THE BAYONET?
Do you write any fandoms? (Please bear in mind that any characters under 18 and any high school settings must be aged up)
Not really, mostly original settings and work. The only fandoms I've dabbled in are Ace Combat, Star Wars, and ASoIaF, but I'm not aiming to write any of that if I can help it.
Do you have any pairing or setting ideas?
Oh boy do I.
Do you have any detailed plots prepared?
Oh boy do I.
Do you have any characters you want to write? (Our character forum is here if you want a dedicated thread)
Yes.
Any additional notes you want to add?
Here's (some of) the plots I've currently got percolating:
Knight Without End
A simultaneous exercise in processing grief and black comedy, Knight Without End is another story set in Pteia. (Don't worry, the infodumps are coming soon.) KWE will tell (part of) the story of Cathán the Deathless - Kane in the Oster tongue, a legendary figure of Oster legend - and the blighted existence he suffers for his treachery. He cannot die, but must suffer every grievous injury, feel every ounce of pain, and face the horror of death again and again. While frustrating, this has given him something of a corner on the "Too Insane to Even Try" mercenary contract pool. Seeking always a release from his torment, his path crosses with the most unlikely being - a lich, once a sorcerer in days of yore, now as deathless and cursed as he - the particular target of his latest job. The lich makes short work of him, but after the second time Kane offers a truce with hands raised, and, contrary to every expectation he held, she accepted. Adventures ensue.
This whole idea totally isn't just my roundabout way of getting to name something Kane & Lich. Promise.
The Song of Roland
Surprise, another Pteia story.
Roland is a questing knight on a relentless mission to absolve another of their sin, cursed only with the blighted life of a survivor who knows he failed his family. Seeking the favor of the Six, he ranges across the length and breadth of the Ostland, righting whatever wrongs he can, until either Orcus takes him or he proves his worthiness. Accompanying the paladin is a small entourage, but most important amongst their number is a Shrine Sergeant, sister Hild. Once the lady Sunnhilde Boden von Herschau, she had chosen the convent over the potential misery of marriage in the courts of the east. She had expected to escape here, far away from home, from any and all connection to her life in the court - but of all the people she had expected to see walk through the doors of the temple, it wasn't Roland.
The details on Hild are fairly flexible, we can shift things around as needed. Also if you're willing to take a crack at a different name just bounce it off of me - I just had that one on hand.
The Voice from the Outer World
One-hundred years ago, the most amazing thing happened.
Once again the light of the sun fell behind the great shadow of the jovian Maia, and the Long Night fell upon Pteia. Upon the shores of the Ahr, the great inland sea of the Ostland, rested the port of Riedel. A citadel of the League, they had little to fear from the Long Night, and the Baron himself stood upon the parapets and looked out into the depths of the nightmare. Amidst the eerie light of dead stars, a great whistling roar came to shriek above all else, and thunder with a terrible boom.
One fell from the sky.
Streaking crimson flame against the sable sky, it streaked over the Ahr, and plummeted into the gray waves with a great crash. Without thought for their own safety, the sailors of Riedel, accompanied by the Baron himself, set forth to investigate. Many fretted that whatever it was would have sunk by the time they reached it, following the billowing smoke, but to the astonishment of all it remained. Glowing still from the fury of its fall, the great jagged shape proved more amazing still as those who poked and prodded it found it to be metal. Such revelations soon paled once they had it open. As if bidden, the searing metal peeled back to reveal the most bizarre sight: a woman, injured and unconscious, of fair skin and silver hair, clad in charcoal wool of the darkest hue. More important - even than her - was the tome that she clutched tightly in her sleep. That was the night Elisabeth came to us.
That was the night we were all saved.
A doomed, tragic tale, the story of the Prophetess is one I've been aiming to write for a while, and I think it could be fun to finally flesh out those decisive days. I'd be delighted to play Elisabeth opposite of the Baron, or anyone really, and give the locals a chance to speak with the Prophetess of the Synod, before the Synod.
A simultaneous exercise in processing grief and black comedy, Knight Without End is another story set in Pteia. (Don't worry, the infodumps are coming soon.) KWE will tell (part of) the story of Cathán the Deathless - Kane in the Oster tongue, a legendary figure of Oster legend - and the blighted existence he suffers for his treachery. He cannot die, but must suffer every grievous injury, feel every ounce of pain, and face the horror of death again and again. While frustrating, this has given him something of a corner on the "Too Insane to Even Try" mercenary contract pool. Seeking always a release from his torment, his path crosses with the most unlikely being - a lich, once a sorcerer in days of yore, now as deathless and cursed as he - the particular target of his latest job. The lich makes short work of him, but after the second time Kane offers a truce with hands raised, and, contrary to every expectation he held, she accepted. Adventures ensue.
This whole idea totally isn't just my roundabout way of getting to name something Kane & Lich. Promise.
The Song of Roland
Surprise, another Pteia story.
Roland is a questing knight on a relentless mission to absolve another of their sin, cursed only with the blighted life of a survivor who knows he failed his family. Seeking the favor of the Six, he ranges across the length and breadth of the Ostland, righting whatever wrongs he can, until either Orcus takes him or he proves his worthiness. Accompanying the paladin is a small entourage, but most important amongst their number is a Shrine Sergeant, sister Hild. Once the lady Sunnhilde Boden von Herschau, she had chosen the convent over the potential misery of marriage in the courts of the east. She had expected to escape here, far away from home, from any and all connection to her life in the court - but of all the people she had expected to see walk through the doors of the temple, it wasn't Roland.
The details on Hild are fairly flexible, we can shift things around as needed. Also if you're willing to take a crack at a different name just bounce it off of me - I just had that one on hand.
The Voice from the Outer World
One-hundred years ago, the most amazing thing happened.
Once again the light of the sun fell behind the great shadow of the jovian Maia, and the Long Night fell upon Pteia. Upon the shores of the Ahr, the great inland sea of the Ostland, rested the port of Riedel. A citadel of the League, they had little to fear from the Long Night, and the Baron himself stood upon the parapets and looked out into the depths of the nightmare. Amidst the eerie light of dead stars, a great whistling roar came to shriek above all else, and thunder with a terrible boom.
One fell from the sky.
Streaking crimson flame against the sable sky, it streaked over the Ahr, and plummeted into the gray waves with a great crash. Without thought for their own safety, the sailors of Riedel, accompanied by the Baron himself, set forth to investigate. Many fretted that whatever it was would have sunk by the time they reached it, following the billowing smoke, but to the astonishment of all it remained. Glowing still from the fury of its fall, the great jagged shape proved more amazing still as those who poked and prodded it found it to be metal. Such revelations soon paled once they had it open. As if bidden, the searing metal peeled back to reveal the most bizarre sight: a woman, injured and unconscious, of fair skin and silver hair, clad in charcoal wool of the darkest hue. More important - even than her - was the tome that she clutched tightly in her sleep. That was the night Elisabeth came to us.
That was the night we were all saved.
A doomed, tragic tale, the story of the Prophetess is one I've been aiming to write for a while, and I think it could be fun to finally flesh out those decisive days. I'd be delighted to play Elisabeth opposite of the Baron, or anyone really, and give the locals a chance to speak with the Prophetess of the Synod, before the Synod.
Starry Dreams, Neon Nightmares
Neu-Lumen - the inner empire's vision of vice - is easily the most alluring of all the Hellworlds within the Supremacy, but such glitz and glamor hide the smog-choked horrors beyond. A cesspit of diseases not just of the body, but of the soul, Neu-Lumen takes the hopeful and grinds them into dust. Captain Corbett is one such man, eager to escape the demons of his past in the endless masses of the Supremacy's busiest port, has become a jaded veteran of the ceaseless war waged upon the criminal syndicates of the ecumenopolis. Divorced, embittered, and inebriated, Otto Corbett is a man not long for the world, or his uniform - or so it was before the brutal slaughter of a Zivilwächter SWAT team on the floor of one of the city's hottest clubs. The story? Downplayed. The evidence? Destroyed. The investigation? Dissuaded.
Nothing about it is right.
Pursuing the one lead he managed to secure from the scene, Otto and whoever else joins him will confront grave danger, navigate a city more byzantine than the Imperial Assembly, and uncover terrible, world-shattering secrets - should they survive.
Across the Stars and Far Away
Charles Hastings was an ordinary imperial man.
A generous wife, happy children, a humble home on the outskirts of the New City, and a burgeoning career in Landwächter Internal Investigations to support it all. For ten years he had worked tirelessly through the ranks of legal bureaucracy to reach where he was, the obligations of family tempered with a love of his work made him something of the Imperial Ideal: conscientious, quiet, content. How bizarre then that the Azrican shot an Inquisitor of the Verhör in cold blood, executed with a single bullet to the back of his skull. Twenty years - murder - was his conviction.
Twenty years in the Star Corps.
For the past twelve years, no word has come to the boroughs of his fate, most have assumed him dead - redeeming himself in the eyes of God and man with his bloody valor - but in some distant corner of the galaxy, the 3312th Infantry Regiment fights, wins, and prevails. Amongst their number there is one whose boots leave the dropship first and return last, every ribbon on his breast bought with a scar, decorated by His Majesty himself: Zugsführer Hastings. The leader of the First Platoon, Third Company is a man of few words and fewer smiles, preferring action to words and success to the alternative. Such a leader delivers victory and death in equal measures to the courageous martyrs who fight alongside him, and so many have already fallen in pursuit of the Final Victory.
To go 'across the stars and far away' was supposed to be an end - blood for blood - victory or death.
To Hastings - and to everyone in the First Platoon - it was only the beginning.
Rip Out My Beating Heart
Across the trade-lanes of the Milky Way a great specter looms. No corner of the cosmos is free from their fearsome savagery, no lone ship is ever truly safe.
The SMV Reliant was believed to be enough of a threat on her own - a Jormungandr class bulk freighter under the ensign of the Syndicate, seventy kilometers long and eighteen wide - to not warrant a proper escort. With two-thousand missile silos and nearly twelve-thousand phalanx batteries, she was thought capable of withstanding any meager attempt at piracy, and in truth she was.
But they are not meager, and they are not pirates.
No pirates could seize an Arbalest class battlecruiser. No pirates could muster a fleet ten-thousand strong. No pirates could overtake a ship of fifty-thousand souls in minutes.
Already the shrill cries of their baleful tongue resounds through the bowels of the great ship, joining in a primordial, inhuman chorus:
To those trapped within, the options are simple: escape or extermination. Weep, for the Tlatlacan have come.
To One in Paradise
The Second Garden War was the single most titanic conflict fought between human powers in known galactic history, and casualties numbered in the trillions on both sides. Now, with the Coalition annexed and the quarrel settled, the true difficulty begins: going on.
One among billions, Sebastian Räder is twice aggrieved - not simply for his wife, slain in an orbital bombing, but also his sister, killed in action at the height of the Hydrian Offensives. Knighted for his own service in that same terrible campaign, lord Räder has maintained his post and continues his service with the Landwächter with all the dignity afforded the uniform, but none of the charm. Assigned - despite protest - to the frosty former Coalite frontier world of Kleos IV, Sebastian commands the local garrison of the township, though thanks to the bumbling nature of the newly reformed territorial administration he often winds up as arbiter of whatever dispute arises, simply by merit of wielding the most force. It is good then that, while cold, he is just.
Despite the hatred he shamefully nurtures in his heart for the Coalite, he strives to emulate the Imperial Ideal - the Emperor's vision - of a fraternal people, but every day, every face, every accented voice is a struggle. All of them, everything they do - everything they are - is a reminder of his failures as a husband, a brother, and a human being - especially her.
Yet he could not help but love her.
Neu-Lumen - the inner empire's vision of vice - is easily the most alluring of all the Hellworlds within the Supremacy, but such glitz and glamor hide the smog-choked horrors beyond. A cesspit of diseases not just of the body, but of the soul, Neu-Lumen takes the hopeful and grinds them into dust. Captain Corbett is one such man, eager to escape the demons of his past in the endless masses of the Supremacy's busiest port, has become a jaded veteran of the ceaseless war waged upon the criminal syndicates of the ecumenopolis. Divorced, embittered, and inebriated, Otto Corbett is a man not long for the world, or his uniform - or so it was before the brutal slaughter of a Zivilwächter SWAT team on the floor of one of the city's hottest clubs. The story? Downplayed. The evidence? Destroyed. The investigation? Dissuaded.
Nothing about it is right.
Pursuing the one lead he managed to secure from the scene, Otto and whoever else joins him will confront grave danger, navigate a city more byzantine than the Imperial Assembly, and uncover terrible, world-shattering secrets - should they survive.
Across the Stars and Far Away
Charles Hastings was an ordinary imperial man.
A generous wife, happy children, a humble home on the outskirts of the New City, and a burgeoning career in Landwächter Internal Investigations to support it all. For ten years he had worked tirelessly through the ranks of legal bureaucracy to reach where he was, the obligations of family tempered with a love of his work made him something of the Imperial Ideal: conscientious, quiet, content. How bizarre then that the Azrican shot an Inquisitor of the Verhör in cold blood, executed with a single bullet to the back of his skull. Twenty years - murder - was his conviction.
Twenty years in the Star Corps.
For the past twelve years, no word has come to the boroughs of his fate, most have assumed him dead - redeeming himself in the eyes of God and man with his bloody valor - but in some distant corner of the galaxy, the 3312th Infantry Regiment fights, wins, and prevails. Amongst their number there is one whose boots leave the dropship first and return last, every ribbon on his breast bought with a scar, decorated by His Majesty himself: Zugsführer Hastings. The leader of the First Platoon, Third Company is a man of few words and fewer smiles, preferring action to words and success to the alternative. Such a leader delivers victory and death in equal measures to the courageous martyrs who fight alongside him, and so many have already fallen in pursuit of the Final Victory.
To go 'across the stars and far away' was supposed to be an end - blood for blood - victory or death.
To Hastings - and to everyone in the First Platoon - it was only the beginning.
Rip Out My Beating Heart
Across the trade-lanes of the Milky Way a great specter looms. No corner of the cosmos is free from their fearsome savagery, no lone ship is ever truly safe.
The SMV Reliant was believed to be enough of a threat on her own - a Jormungandr class bulk freighter under the ensign of the Syndicate, seventy kilometers long and eighteen wide - to not warrant a proper escort. With two-thousand missile silos and nearly twelve-thousand phalanx batteries, she was thought capable of withstanding any meager attempt at piracy, and in truth she was.
But they are not meager, and they are not pirates.
No pirates could seize an Arbalest class battlecruiser. No pirates could muster a fleet ten-thousand strong. No pirates could overtake a ship of fifty-thousand souls in minutes.
Already the shrill cries of their baleful tongue resounds through the bowels of the great ship, joining in a primordial, inhuman chorus:
Who laid waste to Old Ealio?
Who assails the Foundations of Heaven?
Atotoztli!
Atotoztli!
Who assails the Foundations of Heaven?
Atotoztli!
Atotoztli!
To those trapped within, the options are simple: escape or extermination. Weep, for the Tlatlacan have come.
To One in Paradise
The Second Garden War was the single most titanic conflict fought between human powers in known galactic history, and casualties numbered in the trillions on both sides. Now, with the Coalition annexed and the quarrel settled, the true difficulty begins: going on.
One among billions, Sebastian Räder is twice aggrieved - not simply for his wife, slain in an orbital bombing, but also his sister, killed in action at the height of the Hydrian Offensives. Knighted for his own service in that same terrible campaign, lord Räder has maintained his post and continues his service with the Landwächter with all the dignity afforded the uniform, but none of the charm. Assigned - despite protest - to the frosty former Coalite frontier world of Kleos IV, Sebastian commands the local garrison of the township, though thanks to the bumbling nature of the newly reformed territorial administration he often winds up as arbiter of whatever dispute arises, simply by merit of wielding the most force. It is good then that, while cold, he is just.
Despite the hatred he shamefully nurtures in his heart for the Coalite, he strives to emulate the Imperial Ideal - the Emperor's vision - of a fraternal people, but every day, every face, every accented voice is a struggle. All of them, everything they do - everything they are - is a reminder of his failures as a husband, a brother, and a human being - especially her.
Yet he could not help but love her.
EDIT 12/13/22:
Added in some sci-fi plots for people who are into that sort of thing. If any of it interests you, shoot me a message!
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