Introduction I'm here because I like telling stories with people. There's a certain magic that happens when two people share their ideas, combine their thoughts, and produce something better than the sum of their parts. I've RPed in various forms for... rather too long - D&D, tabletop, computer-games, MMOs, and even some LARP. But that doesn't necessarily make me a good RPer - it just means that I know what I like. Rules (think of them more as guidelines, because I'll probably break them...) To my mind, there are three virtues for online RP: politeness, elegance, and articulatene... articulari... bein' able to talk proper. I'm not a grammar Nazi (at least not yet), but syntax is sexy. The player(s) I'd be after should therefore be literate, but we won't necessarily write literature. I don't mind typos, and am indeed guilty of making more than one or two myself. I can't promise to be able to write 20-paragraphs of Dickens; to me, story is about interaction. Quality is more important than quantity. Now, what do I like...? (good question) What I would like would be someone to ArrPee with. The rest of this paragraph is going to be a bit cliche to anyone who has browsed this forum, but I'll try and use different imagery. To my mind, it's kind of like cookery. The E is like hot-sauce or spices; sure, it makes things more interesting, but I wouldn't want to live on a constant diet of the stuff. I'm here because I like spicy food, not because I'm at war with my stomach. As one wise and witty friend put it, I'm a human being rather than sex-robot. I'd hope that you're the same. I'd rather do one-on-one, because getting a group of online gamers together for anything is like trying to herd greased weasels. What can I offer? I roleplay because I like telling, hearing, and sharing stories. I'm flexible, drama-free, eager to learn, and creative (but then I'm not exactly going to put an advert up that says I'm dull). What stories would I particularly want to tell? I think of stories in the same way I'd think about TV shows I'd want to watch. I adored Altered Carbon, Punisher, and so on: ⦁Swashbucklery (musketeers, pirates, corsetry!). I like big boats I cannot lie ⦁Cyberpunk and near-future (Altered Carbon, The Expanse, Pacific Rim, BattleTech). I like big bots I cannot lie. ⦁Space Opera (from Star Trek to Star Wars, by way of Mass Effect). I... need a new song. ⦁Urban Fantasy (If White Wolf or World of Darkness mean anything to you, why haven't you PMed already?!) ⦁Dungeons and Dragons (I love the premise, but get a bit fed up with d20) ⦁Something whimsical, involving Fae, changelings and so on (This is NSFW, whilst this is not) Some particularly odd concepts... ⦁Imagine if we ran the tavern that adventurers came to to get quests. They come and go, and we keep providing beer, magic items, and so on. ⦁Werewolves... in suits. I mean, proper werewolves of Wall Street type werewolves. ⦁Time travel. What about the E- stuff you mentioned earlier? It is, I realise, entirely unhelpful to say "I'm open minded"... but... well... I am! I made the mistake in the past of saying that I'd try anything, and that resulted in character wanting to snort spice from the head of a shaved Ewok. I find the listing of kinks like shopping lists to be... off-putting. I am more than a collection of kinks, lusts, and depravities (I hope). But then this advert is kind of pointless without. It's probably easier to list the things that I do not want. The "I'd rather not" or "maybe" are the unholy trinity of toilet-play, vore, and ewoks. Especially all three combined - there's nothing more off-putting than the smell of an ewok with poo-stained fur. I'm not really a fan of futa - it simply doesn't float my boat. Strap-ons are way more exciting. Last Words? They couldn't hit the side of a barn at this ra... Ahem. If any of the above tickled your fancy, drop me a PM. Tell me your favourite kind of pie in your reply so I know you've read this. Oh. And here's a writing sample: Something SciFi! Spoiler The airlock irised shut, stemming the flow of precious atmosphere haemorrhaging out into the void. The compartment was lit for a moment in the blood-red emergency lighting that sputtered and died as a circuit breaker somewhere overloaded in a shower of actinic sparks. It was moments like this that the demons came back; the haunting fear of claustrophobia, for dying in small, dark airless places. And then the suit’s systems finally came online; the soothing green HUD lit up and the low-sentient AI automatically linked to the other nodes. Data filtered; the Warspite had been hulked. There was no denying it. The Warspite had been an elegant raked cylindrical design, with weapons and sensors towers breaking the otherwise smooth ablative polymer armour. The last few weeks of almost constant combat had turned the ship into jury-rigged mess, with most of the armour stripped away by near-miss torpedo strikes. He couldn’t even tell if the AKVs had engaged, or if any of the smart munitions had even hit, let alone how much damage th… It had been hulked with mass drivers. Not torpedo swarms. In none of the tactical packages had the rogue ships used something as primitive as hyper-velocity carbide pellets. And there were intermittent sensor traces of boarding pods. The systems were so degraded that he couldn’t tell anything more than their approximate size. The AI didn’t board human ships – they held off at maximum range and volley-fired nuke swarms. “Captain! It’s not one of the rogue AIs!” “Sensors indicate the bridge is open to space. No beacons.” The Warspite’s own computer had been relatively primitive by modern standards, meaning that they’d not needed to lobotomise it to prevent infection; it was – at best – semi-sentient. “Patch me through to the XO” “You are the highest-ranking officer on Warpsite. Command transfer protocols activated” He would have to take time to process that. Later. “Do we have any comms at all? Stand down all PD emplacements” “PD emplacements offline due to reactor damage. Attempting to reroute services to navigational array. Broadcasting.” “Human ship, human ship! This is Lieutenant Kenton of the HMS Warspite part of what used to be the UNSC. We surrender unconditionally under the terms of the Aries Convention. We thought you were another Collective ship making a break for the jump gate. I repeat, we surrender and will offer no resistance to your boarders.” Those words felt bitter in his mouth. He looked at the rest of the crew. No, at the rest of his crew. Four marines in their hulking Centurion suits that looked almost like stooped and brooding gorillas. It wasn’t about ISA or UNSC or belters now. It was about the survival of the species. Three AKV specialists, and a medic made up the remainder of the complement of this compartment – what was euphemistically called the flight deck. They would’ve spat boarding pods, assault transports, and the AKVs out into the void. He shuddered at the memory of the images from the LEO colonies where the outbreak had begun. Surender simply had not been an option – the AIs saw humanity as … what? Who could say now. But they seemed to think of humans as a building material to be harvested. This realisation had hardened the resolve of every single other spacer he’d met. From the depths of the pacific to the edge of space… The oath of service had taken on a new meaning from the moment the mushroom clouds had blossomed. … I solemnly swear to defend the constitution of the United Nations… The feed had been grainy, from a hacked weather satellite. But it had spread through the networks like wildfire. … and to protect the freedoms and rights to which all humans are born heir to. The words had felt formulaic; the kind of thing someone in a PR department had dreamt up. Probably an American. But now they felt viscerally real. The stimulants were clearly wearing off. He was losing focus, and he could feel the tears well up and smear across his faceplate. “This is Lieuten… acting Captain Kenton. Warspite is dead in the water; the vessel we engaged is not, I repeat not, AI controlled. We’re about to be boarded by what I assume to be the ISA. We’re in this for the species now. Cooperate, and our rights will be guaranteed under Aries. They may not know what kind of mess Sol is in, but when they find out I think they’ll want our help.” There was nothing else he could say. His throat had choked up and his eyes were full of tears.