Would you be interested in anything like this?
It could perhaps loosely relate to fantasy if we wanted to deal with time travel, maybe.

Sooo, name's Emily, and I'm looking for a one on one role play with someone. I'm not entirely sure of my exact skill level, which is why I'm going to post some samples below.
For genres, I prefer fantasy settings, but I can honestly do anything. Ideas I might reject, though, are things like fandoms. I hardly watch TV and in any case, I prefer to leave established characters as they are and create my own unique characters. There are certain exceptions to this rule, such as if you only want to use the general setting/gist of a book/movie/series. But no guarantees that I've seen it. I don't get around a lot.
I warn you all that I reserve the right to be picky and say that I don't want to role play with you. It could be the type of role play you want, the way you write, or any number of other factors. It will never ever be personal though, I promise. If I reject you, it's most likely just because you're seeking something that's outside of my comfort zone and I don't think I can perform to the standards expected of me by you and myself.
I tend to be pretty good about posting/replying regularly, but I prefer not to be rushed (if possible). Yes, sometimes it takes me a whole day (even two if something comes up) to write a single post. If you're particularly impatient, I'm less likely to want to role play with you, but depending on how much I like you and/or your ideas, I might make an exception. You just have to try to be patient with me. I read incredibly slowly, and I write only about as fast, but I put a lot of thought and effort into my responses, so hopefully it'll be worth the wait.
Now for samples!
These first few are from a role play I partook in a little less than two years ago...probably my favorite one ever. I'm posting a lot from it because, well, I miss it, and I'm proud of what it became.
SpoilerAliana had been home for a while when she first heard it. A shriek; inhuman and earsplitting. It sent a chill down her spine, made her shudder. She had never heard such a noise, and it terrified her beyond any childhood nightmare. What was worse? It came from the street in front of her home.
She had been about to crawl in bed, but now she wasn't so sure. She didn't change out of her nightclothes, instead wandered into the kitchen where her parents were still talking. They were obviously troubled; it was silently agreed that they'd heard it too. For a while, they were all still, listening. Then the shriek came again, loud and clear: right in front of her door. Things started banging against it. Her father went and picked up a knife--it was the best they had--and stood in front of Aliana and her mother. "Get in your room," he said. Aliana opened her mouth to protest, but her father cut her off. "NOW!" Her mother fled to the bedroom, but Aliana stood her ground for a moment before her father grabbed her shoulder and practically threw her, slamming the door to the room. Then the front door burst open. Aliana listened intently. Shouts, screams, the sounds of a struggle. Disturbing sounds. Then, for a moment, silence.
Aliana and her mother held each other, standing in front of the small window. For a moment, it seemed all was going to be alright...then the door splintered. In front of them stood the most hideous creatures Aliana had ever seen, worse than anything she could ever have imagined. Their twisted, distorted bodies were horrifyingly tragic. Before she could even fully register their existence, or even their numbers, they lunged forward. Her mother threw her away and yelled something, jumping into the midst of the creatures, which ignored Aliana for the moment and took to tearing her mother apart. She was shuddering, frozen with fear, until one of the things looked up from the carnage of her mother and made eye contact. Aliana didn't even have to think about her reaction. She screamed, and threw herself out the window. She was slim enough to fit easily through, but the creatures, she hoped, were bulky enough that it would stall them.
She ran. The cold biting the skin left exposed by her small nightdress, the ground seeming to grab at her feet to make her stumble, tears streaming down her face, she ran for her life. She felt like a newborn baby: powerless, hopeless, no possible way to defend herself. It wasn't long before she heard the cursed things following her. She pushed herself harder, ran faster than she ever had before...and she managed to stay ahead of them. She had always been somewhat quick, but she was aware it was a miracle that they hadn't overtaken her yet. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind, attributing the speed to adrenaline.
She could see the inn. It's where she instinctually headed. The mercenaries were there. She knew that if there was anywhere that was safe, it was with them. Unfortunately, there seemed to be almost no way to get inside. They'd already locked themselves in and the monsters were swarming the front door.
The front door...not the back.
She altered her course, dashing down an alley that would take her to the back of the inn. Turning the corners quickly and maintaining her speed through the tiny maze, it seemed she lost the creatures, if only for a moment. Then, sweet salvation. She slammed against the back door of the inn, banging her fist against the wood. "Let me in!" she cried frantically. "Let me in it's me it's Aliana for the love of everything let me in!" She heard her pursuers approaching behind her, and almost lost hope. Then the door opened, a maid grabbed her by the front of her dress, and pulled her in, slamming the door and sliding the bolt into place.
The woman held Aliana for a moment, comforting her and assuring her she was safe before leading her gently into the room where the others were, just as Nox voiced his concern. "We just found her," the woman announced, leading Aliana to a table. Aliana sat down, burying her face in her arms and sobbing quietly, still trembling violently with terror and grief. She could tell these images would haunt her forever, the sight of her mother being dismembered by the abominations that seemed...well, almost human. The thought made her trembling intensify.
SpoilerAliana registered a touch on her hand. For a moment, she didn’t respond, didn’t even twitch, as if she hadn’t even felt the contact. Then she lifted her head and, with her free hand, wiped her eyes. She owed it to the person comforting her to at least look at them with a somewhat presentable face. Then she noticed it was Nox. Her expression didn’t change, but she was relieved. They were close in age, and while not particularly close, they did talk sometimes and occasionally spend a little time together. She almost instantly felt a little better that another adolescent and not one of the adults in the room was comforting her. He was approaching her as a friend, it seemed, not as a guardian.
When he asked about her parents, she swallowed and nodded silently. She chewed her lip and a shudder ran through her as she recalled her mother’s sacrifice, the way her mother’s blood coated the floor before she fled. She noticed Nox’s expression and remembered that his parents had disappeared as well, and that he had a sick, bed-ridden sister. She realized that he was in the same situation as she was, and she was suddenly even more grateful for his presence. Her hand tightened around his as he promised his moral support. He had unshed tears in his eyes. He too was in pain. How naively selfish she had been to wallow and mope in her own misery. Everyone else was just as bad off. She was ashamed of her bratty behavior. So, to make up for it, she looked Nox straight in the eyes and offered a smile. It was, of course, a sad smile, her pain still reflected in her face, but a smile nonetheless.
Then she turned her attention to Ragnvald and Darius. They always seemed to take unofficial command of any situation, but she didn’t mind. They had this charisma about them that just made them seem like good leaders. Especially in this case: If there was anyone to trust as an authority in a violent situation such as this, who better than two skilled mercenaries? Darius advised everyone to find weapons, but warned that death was possibly imminent. Then he consulted Ragnvald, indicating that his little speech was over. Aliana stood up and got to work.
Well, “getting to work” really isn’t the right term for what she did. More accurately, she got up and started wandering around and looking for something that appeared painful. Eventually she settled on Darius’s suggested idea of a table leg. She chose a table and flipped it over and set to ripping a leg off. Obviously, she wasn’t strong enough to simply break it off, so she resorted to physics. She planted her bare feet firmly on the ground and grabbed the leg, leaning all her weight backwards. The wood groaned, then with a loud snap, came away in her hand. She fell onto her backside, but looked fairly satisfied with her work, despite the silly position she ended up in.
Standing up, she inspected her new form of defense. It was light, but sturdy, as table legs are wont to be. She weighed it in her hands and swung it around just a little, being careful not to get close to hurting anyone. Then something else caught her eye. A large bottle on the corner of the bar. She made a beeline to it and picked it up, looking it over before lifting it above her head and bringing it down forcefully on the edge of the counter.
It stayed perfectly intact. Not a single chip. She shrugged and decided to keep the bottle anyway. Intact, it was a suitable bludgeon, and once it broke it would be downright lethal.
But let’s be fair. A girl in a nightdress with a table leg in one hand and a bottle of some generic brand of alcohol in the other looked ridiculous, and despite her efforts to appear tough, she looked about as intimidating as a butterfly.
SpoilerIt was like Aliana's worries all melted away with the arrival of her companions. The stress seeped out of her tense muscles and she relaxed, even as Talia scolded her. She could only manage a sheepish little smile in response. When Nox arrived, she contained her joy and refrained from hugging him as well, if only for the welfare of the bird. It was a cute bird, and it made Aliana happy that Nox had it as a companion. He was always the type who seemed like he needed a pet, in her opinion.
She smiled when Darius finally showed back up. Her smile wilted when he told of his trouble on the road. The thought made her a little nervous. What if Darius hadn't made it? He was one of the bravest people she had ever met, and the dragon frightened him so much, she was now a bit more afraid of the menace lurking around. She glanced quickly at Sebastian. It could have been their party... She shook the thought away.
As Darius and Sebastian spoke, the mercenary's words sunk in. I don't know if it would be wise for you all to go tromping through the woods after it... Did he want the villagers to stay behind? It wasn't an unreasonable thing to ask, once she thought about it. None of them were actual fighters, despite the tumble with the bandits. Most likely, they would run around and get in the way. And if there was anyone that should be excluded from this particular venture, it had to be the child. Then again, the thought of being left alone in this city frightened her as much as, if not more than, the dragon. She was young, inexperienced, and damn near penniless. There was no way she could get by on her own in Barro--she figured it was unlikely she could even find a job.
As she thought, she chewed and picked at her lip. A habit that had stuck with her as long as she could remember. Not as bad as biting one's nails, but it always made it very obvious when she was thinking too hard.
"I can come, right?" Aliana finally blurted out. She winced, realizing she probably butted into a conversation she was not a part of, but the damage was done. Might as well get it over with. "As Sebastian just said, you need knives as well as swords, and I have knives to use. Of course I'm not a professional, but I'm probably good enough. Also, I'm a small target, and....well, I daresay I might be the fastest here. At the very least, I could be a good distraction. I just don't want to be left behind." She chewed her lip again, afraid someone was going to think she was conceited or silly. She wondered if she would ever grow out of these awkward moments that her existence seemed to spawn. After a short moment, she just sighed and hung her head slightly, apologizing very quietly for the outburst.
SpoilerAliana's heart sunk. Every word from Talia's and Nox's mouths was like a painful stab at her self-confidence. You cannot! ... I will teach you...kunoichi you could become... She was weak. Helpless. Useless. Young. Naive. She could hear it in their voices. Two of the people she probably liked most (though she didn't make a habit of playing favorites, so she entirely wasn't sure if she actually liked them more than others). Nox and Talia, people she admired and loved and looked up to. She had considered them friends, but now she was not so sure. How could one be friends with people better than them? She had been considering herself their equal, but clearly she was far from it. Unworthy.
It was possibly the most unfair thing that had ever happened to her. Aliana didn't expect too much out of life, she knew it was often frustrating and quite unfair by definition. But this...this was just unspeakably horrible. Her mind raced. What could have caused them to think this?
Was she too young? She couldn't be, Nox was a year younger than she was. Too stupid? Impossible. She was probably one of the best-educated people of the group, one of the many opportunities provided by rich grandparents. The only logical explanation was that they thought she was too weak. How could they think that? She made half the time they had getting to Barros and had outrun the monsters that invaded Orsin Vear. Perhaps it was all the weight she had lost recently. Yes, that must have been it. She looked down at herself. After a moment, she estimated she had shed nearly thirty pounds, judging by how thin she was. But she didn't feel that much lighter, perhaps only a third of that, and though she had not been eating the same way she had before being banished, she had been eating fine. And running to Barro was easier than it should have been. She concluded that instead of starving, she had simply shed excess tissue in her body, as if all the fat had simply disintegrated. (Her breasts were even a bit smaller, though she found herself unconcerned by this. One could not easily run with large floppy bags hanging from one's torso.) Her body was not scrawny. Thin, yes, but streamlined. Her bones protruded a bit, yes, but from beneath a thin layer of sleek muscle. If she had a mirror, she thought that perhaps, for the first time in her life, she really would look like a dignified adult.
There was no excuse for her not to go, she realized. She could probably be even more useful than Talia. Of course, she was not undermining Talia, but just now seeing the potential that had been hiding beneath the slightly tan skin drawn tightly over her body as a bird's streamlined feathers were drawn closely to its skin. For a moment, she felt a flash of anger. They could see it better than she could, they were just making excuses, perhaps they didn't like her and were simply too cowardly to admit it. It quickly subsided and her usual calm demeanor reclaimed her mind.
"I can," Aliana finally said, looking straight at Talia. Nothing in her expression had changed. She was still a little sheepish, just a bit shy, and sincere. She turned to Nox, and couldn't help but frown. She really did like him a lot, and was grateful to him for supporting her the night her parents died. But she was a little bit upset with him. She reached out and knocked the cup from his hand. It could have been an innocent little prank from one teenager to another, but it had just a hint of the deliberate speed of an act of spite. Enough to show her frustration. His cup went clattering loudly to the floor, spilling mead everywhere. "I don't need to be a kunoichi. I don't want to be a kunoichi. I don't need you to teach me. Sebastian has taught me some, and Ragnvald has promised to teach me more. That aside, I'm fine. I can do things. I'm probably not as powerful as you but I'm fairly sure I'm faster. By saying you could teach me to be a kunoichi after I sit and wait for you to go try to kill yourself, you are assuming, first, that I have no skills and, second, that I could be of no use in this hunt. I don't mean to be rude, Nox. But you said something mean and, quite franky, my feelings are hurt." She fixed him with a steady look, her eyes exposing the sorrow and hint of anger that his words had brought her.
Then, Aliana turned and looked at the others, her expression sheepishly apologetic. "I really am sorry about the outburst." Her glance turned to Darius. "My question was directed at you. I feel like I could help and I promise not to be a bother."
This one is QUITE long, just a warning.
SpoilerAliana watched the flurry of action unfold before her eyes. Her companions sprung into action, doing all they could to wound the dragon. Ragnvald dealt a grievous wound to the beast, and she almost cried out in triumph when Kristalia took the thing's eye. She gripped the spear tighter. Her arms were shaking with the weight of the heavy weapon, but even the thought of her planned lunge was enough to start her heart pumping adrenaline through her body, and the spear seemed to lose some of its incredible weight. She waited for the right moment, then started rushing forward, aiming for the base of the dragon's neck. She intended to plunge the spear down into whatever wound Darius would make in his attempt to take the dragon's head.
The dragon began to change. It seemed to grow right before her eyes. She blinked and shook her head, then squinted at the dragon. Her eyes were not deceiving her, and she doubted it was a trick of her mind; the dragon was literally getting bigger by the second. Its wounds were healing over. Scales crusted over its maimed eye and stitched together the wound in its belly. She hoped the internal damage would remain, but considering the situation, she doubted it. She wanted to rush forward and attempt to hurt the beast anyway. She wanted to drop the spear. She wanted to run. She wanted to say something. She longed for the ability to move, but her body was locked in place. The spear had no longer had any weight in her hands; it simply rested in her hands as if nestled in the curled fingers of a stone statue. She could not move. She wanted to move, to yell, to panic. Even panicing would be better than this. Panic would bring a burst of energy to convert into strength or speed. Panic would make her mind race, her heart pound, and cause time to seem like it slowed down. Panic would be better than this paralysis, this sheer, pure horror that gripped her, mind, body, and soul. This beast was no longer a lovely, admirable, majestic master of the elements. Now it was simply an invincible killing machine, bent on destroying her and everyone she loved. As it grew from adolescence to its full adult prowess, Aliana was incapable of feeling anything but despair, a crippling hopelessness.
Then she heard the approach of something else. Hooves. Yells. Finally, she was able to force her body to turn just slightly to be able to see the wave of people emerge from the forest. More people than she could have expected. Some of them were wearing odd robes. Some were naked and covered in bodily fluids. All of them were screaming and flailing, and Aliana would not have been surprised if some were foaming at the mouth. These people were clearly insane. She watched as they engaged her companions, and while the sheer numbers of the crazy people concerned her slightly, the way they used their weapons was mediocre, and they obviously had no clear train of thought. She and the others would be able to win the fight with these people. She almost completely forgot about the dragon. Darius had managed to restrain the creature, and she managed to focus on the most immediate issue, which was the crazy strangers running amok. This broke her paralysis. She managed to unfurl her fingers and drop the spear, and that seemed to act like a cure to the crippling spell of terror cast on her. She drew the two knives Ragni had given her, feeling a moment of remorse for her looted knife still stuck in the dragon's side like a useless thorn. The people now noticed her. Before they had moved around her, ignoring her frozen form as they would a tree. Now, her motion had drawn their attention, and they realized she, too, was an enemy, not some arbitrary statue. They moved toward her.
Nox threw himself in front of her suddenly, yelling something about needing to move toward Darius. How stupid! She understood his train of thought, but it obviously occurred to him that attracting more people toward Darius, who seemed to have the greatest chance of defeating the dragon once and for all. No, they needed to attract the people away from him. She would have been very slightly annoyed by Nox's attempt to protect her, but she knew his motivation and could not blame him. She could not afford to humor him, though. She hoped she did not hurt his feelings by pushing him aside and yelling "Like hell we do!" She lunged forward into the approaching crazies. As she moved, something flickered in her mind, like a small but bright candle being lit in the back of her skull. It was inconsequential at the moment, so she ignored it, focusing on the people she faced. They went for the most obvious paths, working with nothing but blind rage. Their only goal was to kill her. On the other hand, Aliana's only aim was to incapacitate her opponents. They were numerous, but it would take nothing but a nasty cut in the right place to make them unable to fight. Unlike when she trained with her companions, she never attempted to confront these people head-on. Her first focus was not getting hurt, and she only went on the offense when she was sure of her own success. She dodged a punch and countered with a kick to the face and a quick stab in the ribs. A sword came her way and she jumped away from the man wielding it. He stabbed at her again and she ducked, then shifted her weight forward and struck out with her knife, leaving a deep cut in the man's calf. One cannot fight when drowning in their own blood or walk on muscle sliced in half. Hers was precision work, and she dodged and retreated far more than she attacked, but she was simply too fast to be hit, and she remained unscathed and did not tire quickly.
After a while of her cowardly fighting, she managed to find a spare moment to look around. One thing immediately caught her eye. A man in slightly different robes than the others, up on a horse. He was doing more yelling than fighting. Even she could tell this was the leader. All her companions seemed too occupied with the chaos to notice. Her stomach turned at the thought of it, but she took the initiative anyway. The was not giving orders so much as inspiration, judging by the way he seemed to be yelling, so his death was unlikely to halt the attack completely, but it would be a fatal blow to the morale of the horde of people, and that was just as good. She glanced quickly at Nox. She was reluctant to stray from him, but he could handle himself, and what she was about to do was necessary. She ran toward the leader, fighting off a few opponents on the way. For a moment, Aliana paused to decide how to approach the man. She confronted him head-on, simply rushing forward with every intention of luring him in. He was intelligent and didn't fall for it. Instead, he spurred his horse away. She was about to give chase when he turned, his horse carrying him toward her as fast as it could go. She expected some of his followers to get trampled, but they parted before him without even looking, as if they sensed his presence and accommodated for him. She held her ground until the last moment, when she jumped swiftly to the side. His sword barely missed her. He turned and made another pass and another close dodge. This was repeated several times, and she could tell he was beginning to get annoyed. She was not a challenge, but a nuisance, just as she intended to be. He rushed at her again and she pretended to be tired, jumping a bit late. The sword came frighteningly close to her shoulder, she felt the wind of its movement. She let him have another dangerously close pass, suffering a tiny cut on her ear. It bled a little, but it was unlikely it would even scar. It still had the desired effect. The last of the leader's attacks would hit. She bent over, resting her hands on her knees and breathing heavily as he approached. The sword came down. One twitch, and it went harmlessly over her back. She took the opportunity and jumped up, grabbing the saddle and pulling herself up behind him. He looked at her, surprised, and she had the urge to giggle at the silly situation. Then she plunged one of her knives into his side. He groaned in pain and toppled off the horse. He grabbed Aliana's shirt and took her with him. They tumbled to the ground, and he managed to land on top of her. It hurt and she heard a crack, which she worried was something breaking; it was only a stick she had landed on. But now she was pinned under a man who was heavier and stronger than she was. He lifted his sword and brought it down toward her heart, and by some miracle she managed to catch it at the last moment and divert it so it thumped harmlessly into the dirt. While he was preoccupied pulling it out, she twisted her body in such a way that she managed to bring her legs up around the man's neck. His head was bent backwards and his back was arched awkwardly, but he managed to land a nasty blow to Aliana's arm, the blade slicing through the flesh of her bicep down to the bone. She howled. The man grinned, but she pulled harder with her legs, managing to flip their positions. She now straddled his stomach, and she didn't hesitate: She jabbed her knife deep into his chest. Then she did it again. And one more time. He was going to die, but he seemed determined to take her with him. He weakly raised his arm and slashed at her, but only ended up hitting the side of her head with the flat of the blade. It was a hard blow and split the skin while making her dizzy, but he didn't have the strength for another last attack. He used his last breath the mutter something about chaos, then sputtered and quit breathing. Aliana was coated in his blood. She attempted to stand up, but she had something of a concussion and almost fainted, so she had to sit back down.
She had succeeded. Her arm hurt so much she could barely lift it and it was bleeding profusely, and she felt like she was about to pass out, but she had succeeded. She had done something significant. It was a struggle just to stay awake, so she stayed sitting, but watched carefully as she waited for the concussion to wear off.
This one is from a one on one I'm currently in with a friend.
SpoilerEveryone has their calling. It’s just the way the Ki-Eri are. Each and every person has a passion, an irresistible urge to create, and the thing each person is compelled to create is unique. Sure, with such a large population, similarities were bound to occur, but the details made every work distinguishable from one another. Camila created music. Beats, rhythms, melodies, and descants flowed through her veins, seeming to gather in her chest until she could hold no more and the music burst forth from her lips. Instruments had never come as naturally to her as had the manipulation of her voice. She did have the talent to play instruments, and she was most partial to the flute when her body was not the most ideal outlet for whatever inspiration struck her at the time, but she excelled at expressing her innate music through vocal song.
She loved singing, and she loved listening to herself as well. Society often frowns upon vanity and boastfulness, but Ke-Ri Camila was one of the best Musicians ever born, and whether that is an exaggeration is only minimally debatable. She was literally bred to be a perfect musician. Her father was the youngest son of the purest, most talented family of Musicians in Ki-Eri history. The only way her perfection could be challenged is by pointing out her father’s decision to marry her mother. Lillian Handel had just entered the world of politics as a young, beautiful, capable Philosopher, and was already meeting with instant success when she met the man of her dreams. Nobody thought of her handsome musical boyfriend—people often dated outside of their Houses before marrying within. But then Lillian announced her engagement to Karl Rowan and all hell broke loose. Both families did all they could to convince their children otherwise, citing family histories, social obligations, and above all, the sometimes dangerous results of mixing houses. The lovebirds had none of this nonsense though, and simply pointed out that they both had plenty of siblings to continue the line. They were in love, they were going to be married, and they were going to have a batch of beautiful, perfect children together.
That they did. Approval and understanding were far from upper-class Ki-Eri nature, but there was very little they could do about it. The families could disown the two, but Karl and Lillian, despite both having other siblings, were valuable members of their families, bringing wealth and power through their talents. Despite their unorthodox decision, people enjoyed Karl’s music and Lillian’s knack for maneuvering the finer points of Ki-Eri politics was simply too good to pass up. So the aristocracy turned something of a blind eye to the pair. Their wedding was attended by multitudes, including many prominent figures, but the public media skimmed over it quickly and shallowly. The two continued their careers as normal, until a few months later when Lillian announced her pregnancy. Few people cared until years later, when Karl and Lillian’s first child entered her first stargazing. When the girl emerged from her dreams, she begged her parents to send her to a fine school: a school of research.
Minnie Rowan, daughter of a Musician and a Philosopher, had taken after her mother. She was still a bit young to see the uproar around her—all she knew was that suddenly, family members and friends they saw but rarely were coming to visit on a regular basis, and they asked her many questions—but the whole of society was curious about this anomaly. Philosophers were never born of mixes between a Philosopher and something else. Artists, Musicians, Actors, and Courtesans could reproduce with varied results, sometimes children only took after one parent and sometimes the children would end up with traits of both parents, which often resulted in a very confused, troubled Muse or a particularly talented offspring with the ability to successfully mix the two forms of art it was inclined to. Warriors tended to dominate all other Houses, but since they were so sparse since their fall, overcoming the other Houses was not a threat. But just as Warriors dominated, Philosophers’ blood tended to have the very lowest priority of any house, making mixed Philosophers a near-impossibility. It was part of what made the House such a valuable asset to society: they were a few, rare breed.
Thus Lillian and Karl were almost redeemed for their frivolous disregard for the rules of society, simply for producing such a rare prodigy. Minnie went on to distinguish herself in many ways in the world of research and medicine as her three younger siblings grew. Rena, three years younger than Minnie, turned out to be a most shocking sort of Ke-Ru, striking a beautiful sorrow into the hearts of her admirers with the lovely chords of her harp. It was many years before Lillian and Karl saw any signs of having another child, and just when they were beginning to despair that Lillian may have gone barren early, they were once again able to conceive. Rena was eight years old when Cane was born, but they shared more similarities than even most siblings typically did. They both possessed the same long, deft fingers and melancholy manner (as Cane ended up a Ke-Ru as well), and their eyes were the same deep, dark amethyst, though Cane preferred the piano as his outlet.
Then, barely a year after Cane was born, when Rena was nine and Minnie twelve, Camila Rowan was brought into the world. She showed much promise even from a young age. She was a talented, very intelligent little girl, and she became known for the quips she made that children should not make and the foresight she possessed that most children should not possess. Even before her first stargazing, her developing beauty was apparent. There was slight disappointment among those hoping for another miracle when Camila awoke as a Musician instead of a Philosopher. Despite people’s prayers for another Philosopher, any regret over her calling instantly vanished the moment she opened her mouth, along with any other negative feelings. No one had expected a Ke-Ri singer, considering her siblings’ preference for morose instrumental music, and it made her talent that much more awe-inspiring.
And quite the talent it was. Nobody questioned her as she allowed wordless melodies to flow from her lips as she bathed, especially not today. She knew her family enjoyed her music on a profound level that nobody else ever would, just as she felt the purest bliss whenever she listened to or read her family’s works. She scrubbed herself spotlessly clean, then stepped out and dried herself off. The process of grooming herself was a tedious one, but it was a ritual she did not mind, for what it meant was coming was enough to make the minor annoyance of inconvenience blow away on the wind. Camila did not require much makeup, as her skin was remarkably clear and smooth, but what she did apply made her practically glow. She took an iron to her hair to curl the silky strands into perfect ringlets. The outfit she slipped into was flattering, and she looked herself over in the mirror and nodded with approval before heading downstairs.
Cane smiled when he saw her. He was handsome, and it was a brilliant expression, but as was his nature, it hinted at an inner sadness. “Lovely as always,” he said, circling Camila once.
The comment elicited a tinkling laugh from her. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” she teased, hugging her brother.
He humored her embrace for a moment before breaking the contact, straightening his own clothing, and motioned toward the door. “Shall we?” he asked.
Camila nodded and headed out the front door, sliding into the passenger seat of her brother’s car as he planted himself behind the wheel. She had never bothered to get a car of her own. She preferred to accompany other people whenever going out, and on the off chance there was nobody else to go with, she preferred public transportation anyway, as driving was lonely and boring.
Her brother took his time meandering toward the venue, as they had left early and he was never one to be rushed anyway. When they finally arrived, Cane handed his keys off to the valet, who just stared wide-eyed at them as he realized who they were. They paid him no mind, as they happened to be caught up in a debate over which cars were superior to others (Camila preferred the quietest types, while Cane liked the idea of larger, safer cars). Entering through the back entrance, the siblings found the appropriate people to check in with, who clearly barely held themselves back from admonishing the two for their tardiness, then set up. Despite timing their arrival carefully to avoid waiting too long for their turn, it felt like an eternity before a stage hand approached them and waved to them, indicating it was their turn.
From the moment Camila walked onto the stage, she could tell the audience was eager. Not only for her performance, but also for the show to be over—she had to admit, it had been a lengthy program. She took her place in the center of the stage, and as Cane passed her to take his place at the piano over to her right, they caught each other’s eye and held the contact for a moment. Then it was past and Cane was sitting in front of his favorite instrument, running his fingers lightly over the keys, as was his habit, to get used to the feel of the individual object. There was a split second of complete silence as he raised his hands and the audience waited for those first notes. When they came, they were almost painfully despairing, but then when the time came, Camila added her own bright melody over the accompaniment. It was often considered difficult to force works of Comedy and Tragedy to work together, but Camila and Cane were close enough to almost be one entity, and they made it work. They both knew that many in the audience would likely feel confused and disoriented by the combination, but those who did not would see the beauty of the pair unimpaired.
And as she stood on stage, the light reflecting off of her shimmering silver dress and sleek honey-colored hair, her lavender eyes scanning the audience and occasionally making eye contact to strengthen her words, the markings winding across her clear, slightly-tan skin seeming to pulse with the music, she knew she resembled a divine being of some sort, and although she enjoyed the art she and her brother created, she wished a little bit, as she always did, that her whole family could be there to see her dazzling conclusion to the evening’s show.
One more sample of my writing can be found over in my friend's role play, The Misadventures of Caligula Vane.
So come one, come all, I suppose. If you have questions, comments, suggestions, or requests, just post here or PM me. I look forward to role playing with you guys, whoever feels I'm worthy of their genius.
Last edited by Aliana; 01-30-2013 at 12:52 AM.
Would you be interested in anything like this?
It could perhaps loosely relate to fantasy if we wanted to deal with time travel, maybe.

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