Lets hope this is the last time I'll have to put this post up -_- anyway, rules are the same. These two posts are my first posts. If your interested, then PM me your second post and we'll go from there! There is no set plot, its just my first, random post of a random rp. But this is though Pm so please PM me your post. Now, for the rules:
[*]I'm fine with romance. MxM or MxF. I do not do FxF.
[*]I do any rating from PG to NC-17. Please let me know if you are okay with any rating
[*]This Rp is though PM. But, this is also a temp form so if you want to do this though email, that's fine. Please let me know.
[*]The two posts that I put on here are my first posts. So, unless if you want to do this over email, then Pm me your next post and we'll go from there
[*]If you have any ideas for the Rp, please let me know! I love ideas and come up with random ones all the time
Alright, I think that's it for now. Like I said, this is over Pm so please Pm me! (Once more, unless if you want to do this over email, then just let me know and we'll exchange emails) And without further delay! My first posts:
(If my character is female)
She stood there before the king, feeling more exposed then the time of her birth. She wore no shoes, yet anklets were wrapped around her ankles, and she wore no dress. Instead she wore what felt like cloth underwear, a sheer strip of cloth covering her front, and back, yet it kept the sides of her toned legs showing. A bra like cloth covered her breasts, yet another sheer cloth covered both her sides, leaving her stomach and back bare for all to see. On her hands were golden bracelets that made a noise every time she moved. She felt exposed, vurnalble. And she loathed it. Yet she had no choice but to wear this. Stolen, not far from her hidden village, she was to be sold to the king as a slave. But only if she could impress him. With her wavy silver hair, and golden eyes, she knew that she was a rare treat for these people. Yet they didn't know the power she held. It was a secret that she planned on keeping. She would dance for this king, impress him with the dance that was supposed to be for her eighteenth birthday, and when the time came, she would run.
"Dance for the king slave girl." The man who kidnapped her snapped. She heard the beating of the switch against his leg, as if he longed to hit her with it again.
She turned and glanced at him, her expression bored. She must not show weakness infront of these people. She must not show them that she was scared. If the king didn't like her, she would have to go to the brothels and become a whore for the people. Something that she would rather kill herself for instead of being. "My name is Myst." She told him, rolling her eyes. Before he could step forward to beat her, she nodded at the group who held the instruments. She had talked to them beforehand, telling them what kind of music to play and when to change it.
She put one foot infront of the other, but close enough that her feet were almost touching. From there she got up on the balls of her feet, her hands above her head. As soon as the song played, she began to move. Her body moved like water in a stream, her movements flowing and beautiful. She used every part of her body, making sure that the sheer cloth on her body flowed like her own limbs. She danced the dance of water, reminding herself not to summon water herself. With her last movement, the music changed to something harder. Her dance changed then to more rougher moves, moves that were stiff and ended abruptly like hardened planes. The dance of the earth was that of rocks and soil. Rough, yet smooth. It was harder for her to do without summoning the earth, knowing she had to compensate with other moves. With sweat running down her neck, the music changed yet again.
As she heard the sound of the flute, and no longer the sounds of the drum, she moved like the air. Soft, and carefree, the dance of the wind was that of joy and carefree. Her arms moved softly, her jumps high and graceful. By now she knew that every eye was on her in awe as she portrayed the wind perfectly. Finally, as the music changed one last time, she changed completely. Her movements started off small, tiny even, then slowly progressed to larger and larger. Her dance was angry, sharp. The dance of fire would show others the strength that she possessed. She moved as if she could burn someone, showing all that she maybe beautiful, but she was deadly to any who touched her or tried to put her out. And as the last sound of the music stopped suddenly, she had fallen to the ground, her left leg stretched behind her, her right leg under her, and the front of her body on the floor, her arms stretched above her head once more.
Myst lifted her head as she heard everyone in the court applauding her, amazed by her dance. She stood up, refusing to wipe the sweat off her face and body, and boldly looked at the king. She cared not if the court was impressed. She only cared if this man, the one who she would break free off someday, would be impressed.
(If my character is male)
How long had it been? For how long had he been chained up in this personal hell that they created for him. His red eyes closed as his head fell back. His long raven hair hung limp to his back as he slowly looked up to see his bare arms chained above him. They had stripped him of his shirt, whipped his body, and watched in awe and horror as his body healed. They tried to bring him out into the sun, only to realize that besides a slight sunburn, he didn't burst into flames. So they did the worst thing they could think of. They chained him to his knees and left him to starve.
He had lost count. Had it been days? Months? Years? He didn't know. His fangs ached to burst though skin, to taste that elixir of life on his tongue. Truely, it was his own fault for being careless. He didn't realize that the woman wondering around was bait. She held poison in her blood. Not enough to kill him, but enough to stun him. To weakened him. And he fell for it. He needed to break fee, to get revenge of those who had imprisoned him like this. Yet he needed blood. Blood to give him power.
"I will be free." He whispered, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "There is no doubt about it. I will be freed soon."
[*]I'm fine with romance. MxM or MxF. I do not do FxF.
[*]I do any rating from PG to NC-17. Please let me know if you are okay with any rating
[*]This Rp is though PM. But, this is also a temp form so if you want to do this though email, that's fine. Please let me know.
[*]The two posts that I put on here are my first posts. So, unless if you want to do this over email, then Pm me your next post and we'll go from there
[*]If you have any ideas for the Rp, please let me know! I love ideas and come up with random ones all the time
Alright, I think that's it for now. Like I said, this is over Pm so please Pm me! (Once more, unless if you want to do this over email, then just let me know and we'll exchange emails) And without further delay! My first posts:
(If my character is female)
She stood there before the king, feeling more exposed then the time of her birth. She wore no shoes, yet anklets were wrapped around her ankles, and she wore no dress. Instead she wore what felt like cloth underwear, a sheer strip of cloth covering her front, and back, yet it kept the sides of her toned legs showing. A bra like cloth covered her breasts, yet another sheer cloth covered both her sides, leaving her stomach and back bare for all to see. On her hands were golden bracelets that made a noise every time she moved. She felt exposed, vurnalble. And she loathed it. Yet she had no choice but to wear this. Stolen, not far from her hidden village, she was to be sold to the king as a slave. But only if she could impress him. With her wavy silver hair, and golden eyes, she knew that she was a rare treat for these people. Yet they didn't know the power she held. It was a secret that she planned on keeping. She would dance for this king, impress him with the dance that was supposed to be for her eighteenth birthday, and when the time came, she would run.
"Dance for the king slave girl." The man who kidnapped her snapped. She heard the beating of the switch against his leg, as if he longed to hit her with it again.
She turned and glanced at him, her expression bored. She must not show weakness infront of these people. She must not show them that she was scared. If the king didn't like her, she would have to go to the brothels and become a whore for the people. Something that she would rather kill herself for instead of being. "My name is Myst." She told him, rolling her eyes. Before he could step forward to beat her, she nodded at the group who held the instruments. She had talked to them beforehand, telling them what kind of music to play and when to change it.
She put one foot infront of the other, but close enough that her feet were almost touching. From there she got up on the balls of her feet, her hands above her head. As soon as the song played, she began to move. Her body moved like water in a stream, her movements flowing and beautiful. She used every part of her body, making sure that the sheer cloth on her body flowed like her own limbs. She danced the dance of water, reminding herself not to summon water herself. With her last movement, the music changed to something harder. Her dance changed then to more rougher moves, moves that were stiff and ended abruptly like hardened planes. The dance of the earth was that of rocks and soil. Rough, yet smooth. It was harder for her to do without summoning the earth, knowing she had to compensate with other moves. With sweat running down her neck, the music changed yet again.
As she heard the sound of the flute, and no longer the sounds of the drum, she moved like the air. Soft, and carefree, the dance of the wind was that of joy and carefree. Her arms moved softly, her jumps high and graceful. By now she knew that every eye was on her in awe as she portrayed the wind perfectly. Finally, as the music changed one last time, she changed completely. Her movements started off small, tiny even, then slowly progressed to larger and larger. Her dance was angry, sharp. The dance of fire would show others the strength that she possessed. She moved as if she could burn someone, showing all that she maybe beautiful, but she was deadly to any who touched her or tried to put her out. And as the last sound of the music stopped suddenly, she had fallen to the ground, her left leg stretched behind her, her right leg under her, and the front of her body on the floor, her arms stretched above her head once more.
Myst lifted her head as she heard everyone in the court applauding her, amazed by her dance. She stood up, refusing to wipe the sweat off her face and body, and boldly looked at the king. She cared not if the court was impressed. She only cared if this man, the one who she would break free off someday, would be impressed.
(If my character is male)
How long had it been? For how long had he been chained up in this personal hell that they created for him. His red eyes closed as his head fell back. His long raven hair hung limp to his back as he slowly looked up to see his bare arms chained above him. They had stripped him of his shirt, whipped his body, and watched in awe and horror as his body healed. They tried to bring him out into the sun, only to realize that besides a slight sunburn, he didn't burst into flames. So they did the worst thing they could think of. They chained him to his knees and left him to starve.
He had lost count. Had it been days? Months? Years? He didn't know. His fangs ached to burst though skin, to taste that elixir of life on his tongue. Truely, it was his own fault for being careless. He didn't realize that the woman wondering around was bait. She held poison in her blood. Not enough to kill him, but enough to stun him. To weakened him. And he fell for it. He needed to break fee, to get revenge of those who had imprisoned him like this. Yet he needed blood. Blood to give him power.
"I will be free." He whispered, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "There is no doubt about it. I will be freed soon."
