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Post by Strawberry Scream on Apr 20, 2019 18:10:27 GMT -5
All are free! If you're interested in the starters below, just drop a reply and let me know which you are replying to!
Hello, everyone! My name is Jitterbug, but feel free to call me Jitter or bug. I have maybe ten years of online experience up my sleeves, ten years if you count DnD as online RP prep. Note: you will definitely get some DnD memes. You've been warned.
As for what my guidelines are, there's a short, to-the-point list.
One) Don't give me one liners. Just don't. Note that there's a difference between rapid-fire dialogue (like an argument) and one liners. If the characters are conversing, one liners can possibly be acceptable.
Two) Decent grammar, please! Mistakes are fine, but text talk - nope, farewell and goodbye.
Three) If I say anything you aren't comfortable with, let me know, and I will adjust to your preferences.
Four) It's just a jump in! You're welcome to go at any time!
Five) Just let me know which intro you're going off of I'd like to mark it on the post.
And that's all.
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Right, here's how this is going to work. Below this post will be a few different starters with the settings/characters listed above. Feel free to jump in HOWEVER and with WHATEVER you'd like! Want a rainbow skinned person? Go for it.
And with that, allow me to start us off!
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Post by Strawberry Scream on Apr 20, 2019 18:11:43 GMT -5
Setting: Pirate Ship, "Ye Olden Days" My Characters: Female Captain - Anaya Vange Male Second In Command - Haven Vange
Soft black leather lashed in salt-stained winds as the captain of the ship overlooked the wide sea from the Crows Nest, holding a small telescope in one leather-covered palm. Next to the figure flapped a pirates flag, and under those were the signature sails of the infamous Bleeding Corpse - huge white canvases, splattered red with what many armies of the nations hoped was only red paint for show. After ten years aboard the Bleeding Corpse, the captain knew as well at the commanders on land that the red was not paint.
“Ships in the south, Captain Anaya.”
The captain looked over her shoulder at her brother and second-in-command, a handsome man with sun-kissed skin to match long black hair. She turned her lean body, ducking next to him and scoping out the vast expanse of blue that was her home and her palace. A wicked smile crossed over her tanned face, and she collapsed the telescope to tuck it on her leather belt once more. “Good work, Haven - let’s get the crew up and raging!”
Her second grinned as his captain grabbed onto the railing and launched herself over the side without a second thought. Flame-colored red curls came alive in bright sunlight as Anaya wrapped herself around a rope and slid down calmly as it wrapped around the mast, under the sails. Heavy boots landing on the deck, she whistled loudly to gather her crew around her. They were all salt-roughened and strong, covered in battle scars like their captain. “Ships from the Southern kingdoms,” she reported as her second in command landed next to her on the deck, hand on his sword. “Probably Whisteria, or the Netherwoods. Either way, there are two medium cargo ships, traveling close together and lightly armed…”
Much time passed - the crew of the Bleeding Corpse hooted and hollered around a huge campfire on the sand of a long-forgotten island, barely a speck in the waters. The captain, dressed in non-blood splattered skin-tight leather pants and a plain black corset, dug through a bag filled with what seemed to be medicinal herbs and doctors equipment. The siege of the two ships was successful and brief - men died, fell into the sea to be forgotten like rusted pins. Money, gold, and medicine practically flowed over her crew - along with plenty of alcohol.
“Cap’n!”
Anaya looked up from the bottle of dried sage in her hand, seeing Haven knee-deep in salt water, near where the Bleeding Corpse was shored safely. The carvings of half-decayed bodies along the beautifully kept body seemed to stare down at her as she joined her second, raising a hand to the setting sun to block its magnificent glare. There! A small plant of wood from the ships her crew had taken down - they weren’t far from the siege. On the wood was another person - too far to see if they were alive. “What should we do?” Haven asked, Looking at the captain with trusting eyes. She pondered for a moment, mulling over her thoughts. “Bring them in.”
More time passed - the plank was dragged onto the sand by Anaya and a few crewmen, the smell of dinner-cooking making her stomach rumble. “A Whisterian,” a crewman spat, hand going to the knife on his belt. Anaya’s strong hand slammed into his chest, making him take a step back obediently. “Not just any soldier,” she crooned, crouched besides the unconscious person and lifting the front of their shirt, “a medicinal soldier. This one’s been trained with medicine and war both.” Silence fell after she spoke, and she stood up again to put her hands on well-sculpted hips. Her hair was out of her way - she had tied it up, volumes of tight red curls sleek and shiny from salt and ocean water. “We’re saving them,” she decided, drawing herself up with a straight back. Everyone knew the expression on that rough, pretty face - she was set in her decision, never changing her mind. “And once they’re awake, we’ll treat them like family. We need medical hands and this one might just be the key to our problem.”
Ayana had the person taken to the fire, letting them warm up from the chill water and dry. Dinner was served - a stew with previously dried beef, something that the entire crew ate copious amounts of and laughed loudly, trading bottles of rum and what seemed to be champagne for the finer tasting. Anaya joined in on the drinking, although she kept one of her golden-green eyes on their newest rescue - it wasn’t often she showed mercy, even for these reasons. “….Seven, eight, nine, ten!” Her crew cheered as she slammed the bottle of rum down on the sand victoriously, smiling after the ten-second chugging dare. She clearly had a high tolerance, barely affected by the liquor as she laughed in success.
Hopefully things would clear as time passed, and the stranger would wake up from the smell of good food and the sound of laughter. Captain Anaya Vange had some questions.
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Post by Strawberry Scream on Apr 20, 2019 18:11:53 GMT -5
Setting: Private Jet, Soon to be 'Vampire Restaurant', Modern days Character: Human female - Victoria "Vix" Nerra
Vix was prone to the bad side of luck, but never has she stumbled this badly. First and foremost, she now knew that vampires were real. Yeah, vampires. And the second thing? They were the kind of vampires that would steal people from homes and sell them like meat at a market for other vampires to take their pick from, a sort of vampire McDonalds. Thirdly, last and certainly the least, she had blood meant for picking. This tiny packet of paper said it all.
Wonderful.
So here she was, dressed in her rock-concert-going-attire, with fresh-dyed shock-blue hair still pulled back into a messy bun with her bangs still falling into her eyes. At least she wasn’t wearing makeup… that would have been fun to deal with. The blindfold yanked over her face as she left the concert would have ruined any eyeliner worn. Still, her large dorky black glasses were slightly bent - it was irritating her more than it would have normally, but she supposed it could have been the fact she was kidnapped and was going to be sold as food.
Then again, she was being treated… shockingly well. Too well. It was a first-class private jet she had been locked into, waking up from drug-induced slumber in an over-stuffed armchair and a bottle of Coca-Cola on a small table next to her, resting on the angrily folded papers that explained her ordeal. No seat belts, no chains, no hand cuffs, nothing. There was no one else in the cabin - although she suspected the door behind her was a mirrored window for someone to watch her. Vix narrowed mint-colored eyes in its direction. Whatever.
The clock on the wall had two halves - one told the actual time, and the other counted down. Vix assumed that the jet would be landing when the clock went down to 0 - only another eleven hours to go. Yay. She was tense, that was obvious - anger mostly, her pale hands flexing on the arm rest and her left leg crossed over her right. The black skinny jeans had a new tear in her right knee - probably from when she fought viciously back against her kidnapper before he cheated and stuck a needle in her neck.
Still, she was antsy. She jumped to her feet and paced for half an hour - her stomach rolled with hunger, but she didn’t dare touch the huge pot of what smelled like heavenly perfect potato and beef stew. Her favorite. How did they know my favorite food?! Questions raced through her head as she continued to pace angrily, arms crossed over her chest as her black Pierce The Veil shirt brushed comfortably against strong curves.
Finally, Vix couldn’t take it. She stormed over to the mirrored glass and pounded on it with her fist, glaring at her own reflection. “Look! I don’t give a damn about any of this! Can someone please tell me why the-“ she said a very unladylike word that began with f and ended with k “-I’m here?! No more BS about vampires and food stops and that kind of crap!” She didn’t let whoever was behind the door have a clue that she actually believed the words. It would explain some other… odd things about her life.
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Post by Strawberry Scream on Apr 20, 2019 18:12:44 GMT -5
Setting: Strip Club, "Gritty" area of city Character: "Snow", Stripper Requesting: A powerful man (Maybe a CEO or maybe a gang leader, who knows)
Snow undressed openly in front of the other women, tossing her skinny jeans and red t-shirt into her duffle bag. Her day bra and underwear followed suit, socks and shoes already rested there. Naked except for a pretty white metal lace around her neck, the young woman whipped a hair tie from her pretty golden hair before plopping herself in front of her designated mirror, a bunch of squeeze bottles on the mostly empty desk. Her makeup was stored in cheap plastic drawers, sorted neatly.
Crossing her bare legs and pulling her silky robe over her body casually, Snow ignored other girls' staring as the shower ran on in the back. Perfect, it gave her time to streak her hair with the color-depositing conditioner in the multiple bottles in front of her. She chose plenty of streaks of blue, purple, pink, and green, and it was underwater themes that day. The further the girls went into the theme, the more tips they received.
She slapped on a green tea and charcoal face mask, hair pinned back, as she waited for the shower. She sorted her makeup. Chose what to stick onto her skin for more attention. Plucked her pale blonde brows, stuck on a whitening strip to her teeth and polished her tall, silvery-metallic heels. Soon enough, the shower was open and she jumped in and jumped out in record time, her hair now streaked in bright blue, pink, purple, and green as she spat out the whitening strip into a trash can.
She got ready in record time as the other girls were still working on their makeup. Her hair was messy and damp to fit the theme, her lips painted a dark, seductive purple - her eyes were caped with flawless black winged eyeliner, and she dressed in a gorgeous shell-adorned white bra and a tiny little pair of shorts with shells, pearls, crystals, and opals stitched in. Across her skin were different 'mermaid' colors she brushed on through a broken thing of fishnet tights, giving her scales. Everything she wore was as strappy as it could be, places for men to stare and shove in bills.
"Hot," said one other girl as Snow was bent in half, sliding on her heels, and the girl slapped Snows' mostly exposed ass. "Watch the pearls, please, darlin'," Snow responded with a wink, motioning to the tiny little, flat-backed, pearly gems artfully scattered across her shoulders, chest, legs, and even her back and face. They were stuck on with strong eyelash glue, and artful solution that would glitter and gleam, drawing eyes to her.
So, it was wearing her heels and holding a tray of vodka shots, when she stepped away from the curtain and door going backstage.
The normally flashing lights were wavering now, like underwater. The colors reflected off her porcelain skin and the gems stuck to her, and men shifted uncomfortably in their seats as her curves flashed by, heels clicking as she suddenly slowed at the end of the stage, slowly smiling wickedly. Vivid blue eyes were narrowed seductively and she got onto her knees, legs adjusted so her shorts rode up to show more of her skin. There was an audible groan from one of the customers, a large alpha with dark skin and pale hair. Xander.
"Look for something, baby?" She asked in a low growl that carried over the throbbing music, leaning down so her chest almost spilled from her bra. It was so easy, just to reach behind her and take it off. Instead, he jolted to his feet and snatched up three of the shots at once, pinned the tray onto the stage, shoved several green bills into the straps of her bra, then grabbed her and half led, half danced with her towards a private room. The curtains closed.
There was a loud groan and the young woman whipped the curtain aside a moment later, even more bills shoved into her clothing. Against all the tan skin of her co-workers, she was so pale, she was like a beacon - and oh, did the men answer that call, especially as she bent to their wills like dolls. Twice already, within the span of an hour, she had private showings - and one left her lipstick a touch messy, and she left the room with the mans' belt smugly. And half of his wallet... She looked in a mirror and fixed her lipstick, stashing the belt and all her cash into the lockable cubby behind the bar before coming back around. The bartender would watch it like a hawk.
"Snow!" It was Jasmine, a young woman with dark red hair and tan skin. Snow looked at her with raised brows, and the young woman grabbed her dainty shoulder and turned her around. It was a regular - and it was the tall one, dark, with a certain vibe that made Snows' hands itch to drag over his chest to find the cash in his jacket pocket. She was new, but she was bold - she would dominate this club soon.
"That's Boss - or what we call him, anyways. He's a regular, kinda dances from girl to girl."
"Who has he been seeing lately?"
"Lacey."
"Not anymore."
Snows' confidence rocked Jasmine's world, and the tag woman watched as the younger one stole a tray from a bar, holding two drinks - her personal favorite, a rum and coke, and another she had seen Mr. Ace Bennett drinking before. Without warning, she stopped behind his seat and lowered the tray in front of him, one hand leaving the tray to slide hypnotically over his resting arm. Her nails were long, filed into points, and painted a velvety red that made her skin look even creamier than normal.
Her voice touched his ear with a low hum. "On the house, darling. Or, more appropriately - on me." She slinked around him gracefully, still holding the tray as her bare, smooth leg pressed against his. Everything was easy - the seductive voice, the lip biting, and way she subtly rested more weight on one hip to show her curves. But most importantly, her confidence rode like waves off of her, multi-colored hair flipped behind her shoulder. The smell of vanilla and raspberries greeted him through the stench of sex and alcohol. Her lipstick was fixed by now, giving no hint as to what she had done before.
She slowly knelt onto her knees suggestively, eyes locked with his - a hand trailed up his leg.... Only to move back to the tray and set it to the table next to her, and she rested over his lap like a naughty kitten, hair splayed around her sharp features like a halo in the throbbing lights. She rested her hands and arms on his thighs lightly. She looked at him, biting her lower lip softly and letting it slide from her teeth - her matte lipstick stayed in place.
"Snow," she finally said after devouring him with her eyes, extending a hand as she rocked back onto sitting straight, on her knees. Her other arm rested in the center of her lap, gently accenting her chest that was still threatening to snap the bra. Her lips quirked up into a sly, foxy, confident smirk. "I'm here to take you away from Lacey."
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Post by rebeljupiter on Apr 21, 2019 18:42:40 GMT -5
Hi I would love to hop in on your first starter if that's ok!
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Post by Strawberry Scream on May 6, 2019 16:43:17 GMT -5
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